Draw a Circle
by LumiOlivier
Summary: France stumbles on a mysterious naked woman and can't keep her to himself, so he consults his good friend Britain. Who is she? And where did she come from?
1. Oh, Humanity

**A/N: Um…Hi. I don't think we've met before. In fact, I'm pretty sure of it. Unless you've been around for a while. But chances are, we've never met. Well, since we met here, you could probably guess…Yeah. I'm Hetalia trash, too. The dumpster is warm and cozy, though. And I've been bouncing this around my noggin for a while now. And I think I started writing it back in November? October, maybe? November! Because I cheated on my NaNoWriMo project with this. But it was an idea and now, here we are. But! How rude of me for not even introducing myself.**

 **I'm Lumi, your internet friend, snappy dresser, and all around good human being. And since you guys are possibly new, we'll hold off on talking about the Compound. You're still in your infancy. You'll learn about the compound later when you're more established. Maybe you already know about it. But all that aside, it's a pleasure to meet you, new friend and how about we get down to what you're here for, yeah?**

Why do I have to hurt like this? I know I'm old. My body doesn't have to remind me. Although I came here in a much younger body, I still felt everything. Every scar, every crack. And this rain wasn't helping anything. Someone really needed to turn that off. Now, where did they drop me? I'm cold. I'm drenched. And…Uh-oh…Someone will answer for this. They drop me into this world with no idea of where I am in the rain and to put the cherry on this crap cake, I can't have any clothes either? Someone's ass is getting fired.

I can't exactly walk around like this. Let's see. There's an old newspaper and a box in this gutter. The newspaper is written in English, so that narrows things down. America, Canada, New Zealand, England, Ireland, and Australia. Where would they have dropped me? The country wasn't listed on the paper. As much as I could, I got somewhat dressed and started to get adventurous. Wherever I was, at least it was a city and not in the middle of nowhere. First, I find out where I am. Then, I find a place to sleep tonight. How do I do that, though?

"Excuse me," I walked up to a man standing by a bus stop, "Could you tell me…?"

"Piss off, you harlot!" he jumped back, swatting at me with a more recent paper than the one covering my chest. Ok. It's just one person. I can't give up. I'm better than that. Hey! Another opportunity.

"Excuse me, ma'am," an old woman stood outside a mini mart, "Do you think I could have a minute of your time?"

"Do you want my pocketbook, too?" she spat at me, "Get off!"

Wow. The people of this world could be so cruel. I had no idea things were this bad. It looks like I may have my work cut out for me. But how was I supposed to help when they wouldn't even accept it? Maybe they didn't deserve it. Maybe I should just go back. But I couldn't go back. There's too much to do down here. I can't just leave them. How could I help them, though? I can't even help myself. I'm sitting in a gutter, wearing a box for pants and with a grumble in my stomach. I must look pretty pathetic right now.

"My, my…" a blonde man with a thick accent stopped in front of me, holding his umbrella over me, "Aren't you in a pitiful state…It is a terrible night for rain, wouldn't you agree, cheri?"

I couldn't even speak. My throat was so raw. I felt like I had swallowed glass. The rain and the cold must be making me sick. All I could do was nod my head. And even that was iffy. This damn kink in my neck was killing me.

"In that case," the man took his jacket off and wrapped it around me, "Let's get out of it, shall we?"

"If it's not too much trouble," I spoke meekly, reveling in the warmth of the thick wool, "Could you tell me where I am?"

"Too much to drink?" he chuckled, "I was just on my way to my friend Britain's house."

"Britain…" I thought, "Are we in England?"

"You really have had too much," he teased, "A beauty like you should be careful in the pubs around here. They'd eat you alive and be unworthy of your presence."

"Oh." What little body heat I had quickly relocated to my face, "Good to know. But if the men in the pubs would eat me alive, why should I trust you?"

"I am no Englishman," he draped an arm around me, "In fact, I'm almost insulted. And I don't see anyone else stopping to help you."

"Thank you," I took his hand. Everyone else would yell and hit and sit at me. But this man helped without knowing a thing about me. Yet he's been so kind to me. Without any prompting. His mother must be proud.

"You may call me France," he raised the back of my hand to his lips, "And what do you call yourself, mon belle?"

I smiled at France's gesture, "Terra."

"Terra," France kept a hold of my hand, "It is a pleasure to meet you. Now, we should get to Britain's house. He hates when I'm not on time and he yells at me."

"Is Britain an angry person?" I worried. France seemed so nice. I just assumed his friend would be, too.

"He can be," he admitted, "But at his core, Britain really is a good guy."

"Good." I didn't have the energy to deal with anything like that.

"I'm sure he can find a place for you at his house," France promised.

"I hope so." The new body was still something to get used to. Just like sleeping. I've never felt so run down. Not since my brothers and sisters were born. I could stand a thirty-minute power nap. That's all I really need.

But then, as France and I started walking down the street, my knees gave out from under me and I fell into France's arms, "Mon dieu, Terra. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I rubbed my eyes, trying to regain my footing. I'm still getting used to my legs.

"No, no," France held me up, putting a hand to my forehead, "You're running quite the fever, cheri. We really need to get you to Britain's house. Come on. Allons."

"Ok," I felt so dizzy. Maybe if I get a little sleep, I'll be ok.

"She's burning up," a gentle voice spoke. That wasn't France. He sounded more…Uptight. More…posh, "Where did you say she came from?"

"She was naked in the alley." There's a familiar face. Voice anyway, "What was I supposed to do, Arthur? Do I leave her in the rain and let her die?"

"Well, no," he let out a sigh, "But you just bring some random bloody tramp into my house?!"

"I couldn't leave her," France sat by my side, "Do you think she's a micronation?"

"We can ask…"

"She also has feelings," I groaned, opening my eyes, "And she doesn't appreciate you calling her a tramp."

"I'm sorry, Terra," France pushed my hair out of my eyes, "Britain can have a hard time expressing himself."

"I understand," I let it slide, looking up at him from France's lap, "So, you must be Britain."

"I am," Britain nodded, "Who are you and where did you come from?"

"My name is Terra," I introduced myself, "I'm from…a very long way from here."

"And what brings you to my house?" he dug deeper. Always the inquisitive one, isn't he?

"Technically speaking," I pointed out, "France did."

"Oh, I like her," France chuckled, "Come on, Britain. Let her stay. If not just for tonight. If you want her gone by the morning, I'll take her back to my house."

Britain looked me over, still a bit skeptical. I know this didn't exactly look ideal, but like I said, someone's ass was getting fired, "I guess so. Only for tonight!"

"Thank you, Britain," I smiled sweetly, "And if it's not too much trouble, do you think I could get a cup of tea?"

That was enough for Britain's ears to perk up. And France couldn't help but notice. I think I said one of his trigger words, "Why don't we get you a bath and get you into drier clothes that aren't my coat first? We'll se if we can get your fever to break."

"Ok," I took France's hand.

"Wait," Britain stopped us, "How do you take it, Terra?"

"It all depends on what kind of tea you're making," I stipulated, "So, what kind of tea are you making, Britain?"

"I'm not sure," he thought, "Is there anything you'd like?"

"An earl grey would be nice," I requested, "A little honey please."

"Sure." I think I've won Britain's heart. Not to difficult to do if one knows the buttons to push. And apparently, that's the tea button.

"Don't worry about him, mon ami," France assured, "Britain just needs a little time to come around. We've known each other for centuries and he still hardly warms up to me. We'll call it a personality flaw. If there was a personality there that wasn't bitter."

"I HEARD THAT, YOU DAMN FROG!" Britain shrieked from the kitchen.

"See what I mean?" he giggled, "Remercier Dieu pour son cul…Or he wouldn't have much going for him."

"Very nice," I shivered, not realizing France's persuasion until now.

"You understood what I said?" France gave me a look.

"Yeah," I blushed a little, "And I'm a little uncomfortable looking at Britain's ass, so…"

"You did understand," he gasped, "I didn't know you knew my language."

"I know a lot of different languages," I explained, "Even some of the dead ones."

"Rumor has it," France told me, "If you start speaking in Latin to a little friend of ours, he'll start going on about his grandfather. He'll tell stories about him in a language he doesn't even really comprehend. But when you translate it, they're just stories about his various conquests with various women that boggle the mind. Some of them you don't even think they're physically possible."

"Are you talking about Italy speaking in tongues?" Britain came back with a cup full of earl grey tea still steaming.

"Oui," France chuckled under his breath.

"It's worse to do it when he's drunk," Britain suggested, "That's when some of the truly haunting stories come out. I still have nightmares about one."

"The bowl of fruit?"

"And the Chinese finger trap?"

"I know the one," France started laughing hysterically, leaving me completely in the dark.

"I can never eat grapefruit again," Britain shuddered, give me the cup, "Here, Terra. You did say a little honey, right?"

"That's right," I shook off any images of what they could possibly be talking about, "Thank you, Britain."

"You're welcome," Britain's hard face softened into a smile, sending my heart all aflutter. Maybe he's starting to come around as promised.

"Oh, ma chère, douce Angleterre," France came down, wiping the tear from his eye, "You're such a prude."

"You call it being a prude," Britain defended, losing that cute, little smile of his, "I call it a bit of modesty. It's not going to kill you."

"You don't know that."

"And don't think I didn't hear that comment about my ass!"

"I wish you'd show it off a little more!"

"Pervert!"

"Buzzkill!"

I just sat back and let those two fight it out, casually sipping on my tea. To think I was going to stick closer to home. And miss out on this? I've always been the type to watch the drama from a distance. Seeing it close up is so much better. France and Britain's insults grew meaner and meaner and if we come out of this without bloodshed, I'll be amazed. As much fun as this is, these two need a whistleblower or someone's going to either say something they regret or someone's getting punched.

"Alright, boys," I stopped them, already feeling better. It's amazing what a cup of tea can cure, "That's enough. Before either one of you pull something."

"Fine then," France decided to be the bigger man, "We'll stop."

"Hey!" Britain tried to start things back up, "What do you mean, we'll stop? I wasn't done!"

"Come along, Terra," France helped me onto my feet, "I did promise you a bath, did I not?"

"HEY!" Britain called after us as France led me down the hall, "GET YOUR FRENCH ASS BACK HERE!"

"Sorry, Britain!" France yelled back, "I'm busy!"

Yeah. To say that I have my work cut out for me is an EXTREME understatement. But I can manage. I can't give up on them now. Not when I've come all this way already.

 **A/N: Hi. I'm back again! And I think we're off to a good start here. We have a little bit of France and Britain at each other's throats. France is an absolute sweetheart and a true gentleman. Britain needs a night off. And…Well…Terra has a backstory that we're going to keep under wraps for the time being. You'll see, though. You'll see how she fits into the grand scheme of things.**

 **Can I just say this? I'd really appreciate if we didn't get into shipping wars here. I'll admit, I'm a massive slut for FrUK. But there are going to be some other ships going on. So, I think now would be a good time for this question. Without all the shouting…What does your Hetalia fleet look like? I say fleet, because I know better. There's no way you can narrow it down to one OTP. That O in OTP is just a suggestion. Kind of like dry clean only labels. But all that aside, who do you (yes, you.) ship? And who knows? Maybe your ships could end up in this someway, somehow.**

 **Personally, I love a good FrUK. Some casual Spamano (but so help me god, if it's with chibi Romano, we're going to have a problem. I do have a moral compass here.). I'm a MASSIVE slut for the FACE family. That's always good for a case of the warm and fuzzies. GerIta is too damn cute not to love…I don't know. I just have a lot of feelings, ok? So, who makes your face melt with cuteness? Who makes your squees so loud, your throat hurts? I'm curious. Well, see you next chapter! xx**


	2. Extended Family

**A/N: You guys want to know something awesome? My top 4 highest viewing countries? In order: America, France, the UK, and Canada…My top 4 is the damn FACE family and that makes me so happy. 3**

 **Now, because Anna (yes, you…), no worries about your English. I've had a lot of people come in that didn't natively speak English and I'm just proud of you for making the effort. Rare pairs are fun, too. I fell down some GerAme rabbit holes a couple days ago and some of it was really cute. But for now, I'm going to get to some excitement now, ok? I'll see you down at the end with the others.**

Britain had a beautiful bathroom. Marble sinks, gold fixtures. And the best part? The giant soaking tub in front of a big picture window. The view of the night sky from here was absolutely breathtaking. Every twinkling little star gave me such a warm feeling. They remind me of home. Although the stargazing got me feeling homesick, I think I'm going to like it here. France began running the water, making sure it wouldn't be too hot. Ever since we've met, he's been more than accommodating. Almost like he's willing to love and protect me like his own.

"Well, Terra," France turned the water off as soon as the tub was full. But then, he started pouring small vials into it. Whatever they were, they smelled sweet. I like it, "Would you like for me to leave you alone?"

"You don't have to leave," I allowed, "Besides, it's not like you haven't seen me naked before. And the company would be nice.

"I haven't seen you naked this close," he pointed out, "Not that I'm shy, but I thought I'd ask first."

"Thank you," I dropped his coat and stepped into the warm water. This was nice. This was very nice. My old, aching bones were feeling whatever voodoo was in this bathtub.

"Mon dieu," France gasped, reaching out for my bare skin, "Forgive me if it's not my place, but how much battle have you seen in your lifetime?"

"Too much," I shuddered, shaking some dark memories out of my thoughts, "Why do you ask?"

"All of your scars," he traced his finger over a few of them as gently as possible, "They look like they hurt."

"Those?" Now, I understood better, "Oh, no. All my scars aren't from fighting."

"What…?" France gave me a look.

"No," I reiterated, "Every scar is more of a symbol of life rather than death. Each one signifies another birth of a bouncing, beautiful baby."

"You have children?" France awed, "But you look so young."

"Flattered," I nodded, "But yeah. Quite a few of them."

"I see someone gets around," he teased, getting a washcloth for me, "Not that I'm judging. I don't have the room to."

"No," I clarified, "All of them came from the same father."

"Good for you," France praised, looking my scars over some more, "Then, going by the number of them, is it safe to assume you're Catholic?"

"I don't think I am…"

"If you ever get the chance to see Britain drunk," he suggested, "Ask him if he's Catholic or Protestant. He'll go on a ten-minute-long rant just to come to the conclusion he doesn't know."

"Why would I do that to him?" I giggled, "That just seems cruel."

"It's fun for a cheap laugh," France winced a little, reaching for another scar, "Are you sure they don't hurt?"

"Not anymore," I assured, "They did at first, but that's birth. It's supposed to hurt."

"Do you ever see them?" he asked.

"Not as much as I like," I shrugged, "But I do. Some of them are gone. It's ok, though. Circle of life. I understand."

"You take that well," France put a hand to my forehead.

"Their children are still around," I felt my eyelids get heavy.

"That's comforting," he didn't look pleased, "You're still too warm. Why don't we get you to bed? Hopefully, your fever will break by morning."

"If it doesn't?"

"We'll figure something out," France got a towel for me and helped me out of the tub, "On a positive note, you're clean again. Now, we can get you a bed and some proper rest. Are there any sort of materials you don't like?"

"Anything's fine."

"Good," he brought me into a bedroom down the hall, sitting me down on the bed, "Because you strike me as the type that would be absolutely stunning in silk."

"Sounds good," I allowed. Personally, a nice, soft flannel would've been better, but given my fever, I'm sure something cooler would be the smart way to go. France came out from the closet with a set of rose-colored pajamas. They looked awfully comfortable.

"Here," France gave them to me, "Put these on. I understand sleeping naked. If anyone can understand, it's me. Britain only sleeps naked when…Well, I won't bore you with the details. But given your condition, you should probably put some clothes on. Not to mention, sharing a house with two strange men…"

"I'm not shy either," I threw the top over my head, "But thank you, France."

"You're welcome," he smiled at me, "Now, are you going to be ok on your own for the night?"

"I think so," I slid my shorts up my legs.

"Alright," France pulled me onto my feet, only to pull my blankets back, "Go on, ma petite fille. It's alright."

I got in bed on the other side, snuggling down into the warm blankets. Oh, yeah. This is so much better than the gutter. Then again, anything was better than the gutter. When I'm here, I knew that at least one person cared about me…And I wouldn't be spat on…I laid my head on my savior's shoulder, "Really, France…Thank you."

"You're very welcome," he pulled the other blankets over me, "Are you comfortable? Do you need anything else?"

"I'm fine," I moved my heavy, weary head to my pillows, "I wouldn't want to be a burden."

"You're not," France promised, taking my hands, "You couldn't ever be a burden on me, cheri. I swear to you. Now, get some sleep."

"Only if you do the same," I bargained, fighting back a giant yawn I felt coming on.

"Deal," he leaned over and gently placed a kiss on my forehead, "Bonne nuit, Terra. I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night, France," I shut my eyes for just a second. Shortly after France had turned the lights off, I was borderline comatose. When was the last time I slept? I knew it had been a while, but to warrant this? Maybe it was something France had put in my bath making me so sleepy. I knew certain herbs when used together could help with sleep. Or I just needed a damn nap.

The next morning, I woke up in a bit of a trance. I had forgotten what the bedroom France had put me in looked like. Simple. Gray curtains, blue bedding, and more pillows than one person had the right to. Not that I was complaining. The extra comfort was nice. As was the sweet smell wafting through the air. My god, what was that? Color me curious. I got out of bed and followed the smell. Although, it wasn't easy. Britain's house was like a big maze.

"Her fever broke," France began. Maybe I should stay back. Just to hear what they think about me unfiltered, "So, we can call that a win."

"Good," Britain scoffed, "Now, we can find out more about who she really is and who she's working for."

"Honestly, Arthur," France groaned, "We're not going to start pumping Terra for information already. From what I've seen, I'm pretty sure she's harmless. The fact that you even brought it up is twisted."

"There's no such thing as being too careful," Britain took a long drink from his tea cup. Still doubting me, huh? France warned me that Britain could be a bit prickly, "What should we do with her?"

"We can't just abandon her." It's so nice that France is on my side, "If it really means that much to you, Terra can always come live with me."

"If you want to bring her into your house," Britain brushed him off, "Who am I to stop you?"

"Why won't you give her a chance?" France argued, "Terra's just a little girl down on her luck."

"Francis," Britain let out a heavy, exasperated sigh, "The last time you brought a stray in, we ended up with Matthew."

"And we wouldn't trade him for the world, would we?"

"Well…" Britain pouted a bit, "No. But…"

"Alright then," France put his foot down, "I think you know my stance."

"You're right, France," I walked out, "It's unfortunate, but true."

"Good morning, Terra," France got me a chair, "Did you sleep well?"

"Very," I took a seat at the breakfast table. And the beautiful landscape of the breakfast table made me salivate, "Britain, did you make all of this?"

France erupted in the most raucous belly laugh I have ever heard while Britain glared daggers into him, "No, Terra. I didn't. I'm not allowed to use my own kitchen in my own bloody house."

"I did," France came down, still a tad giggly, "Britain's not allowed to cook when I'm here for his own personal safety. Not to mention, anyone around him. No one deserves Britain's cooking."

"Piss off!"

"I'm sure your cooking is fine, Britain," I stopped those two from killing each other.

"Thank you," Britain held his glare, "I'm glad _someone_ thinks so."

"Because she doesn't know any better," France teased, pushing Britain a little more, "Terra, I've used British food as a threat before. And it works."

"No," I wasn't going to let this go on anymore, "Enough fighting."

"Fine," France agreed. One down.

"Alright," Britain followed suit, appreciating my efforts, "Terra, are you more of a coffee person or a tea person?"

"Tea at night," I told him, "But coffee in the morning. Definitely coffee. Dark roast, if you have it."

"I can handle that!" France jumped up, "I love him dearly, but Britain wouldn't know a good cup of coffee if it bit him in that cute, little ass of his."

"I heard that!" Britain turned bright red.

"And I meant every word of it!" France really knew how to push Britain's buttons, didn't he?

"Forgive me for having a bit of class," Britain grumbled under his breath.

"Britain," I wondered, "Have you and France always been like this?"

"Like what?" he took a delicate sip from his tea.

"Well," I pointed out, "You two are practically a married couple. You fight like one anyway."

"We're not," Britain got defensive, "France is just a giant flirt and he knows how it drives me mad."

"We've done all but sign the papers," France came back with a cup of hot coffee in his hands for me. Bless him.

"We're not married!"

"You're cute when you're angry, Angleterre," France winked at him from across the table.

"Ugh…" Britain slammed his forehead into the tabletop, "What else is the morning going to give me? What hell awaits?"

"Sir…" one of the house staff panted, "You can't go in…"

"Yo, Britain!" a loud, boisterous voice boomed through the halls.

"Oh, joy," Britain grumbled into the dark oak, "Just the headache I wanted to see today. Not bad enough the frog's here with a stray puppy, but the Yank has to barge in, too. Oh, lucky me."

"Oh…" The loud voice had belonged to a cutie in a bomber jacket. And he instantly caught sight of me, "Hello, Miss Lady…"

"Hi," I smiled, falling victim to his charm.

"Good morning, America," France greeted him, "To what do your father and I owe the pleasure?"

"WE'RE NOT MARRIED!"

"I was just in the neighborhood," he rocked back on his heels, ignoring Britain's outburst, "I thought I'd say hi. But I totally wasn't expecting you to have a girl over here, Britain. Are you cheating on France or is France screwing around?"

"We're not a couple!" Britain snapped, already done with the day before it began.

"Everybody knows better, dude," he brushed him off, "So, who is this beautiful creature?"

"I'm Terra," I introduced myself, "And I'm not sleeping with either one of them."

"Play nice," France warned him.

"I am," he kissed the back of my hand, "Call me America. Or your personal, number one hero of all heroes. Either one will do."

"I think I'll stick with America," I picked, "Personal number one hero of all heroes is a bit of a mouthful."

"What did you really want, America?" Britain refilled his tea.

"I did just come to say hi," America promised, "But then, I realized you had company. Terra, are you busy today?"

I shook my head, "Nothing I know of. Why?"

"I know we just met, like, five minutes ago," he noticed, "But do you want to come and hang out with me?"

"I don't know," I looked toward France, "Do we have plans for today?"

"Not to my knowledge," France unfolded his newspaper, "If you want to go play with America, you're more than welcome."

"Like hell, she is!" Britain stepped in out of nowhere, "She may be a tramp, but Terra is somewhat civilized. God only knows what an afternoon with Alfred would do to her. He's a bad influence."

"Ouch," America winced, "A little harsh, Britain. What did I ever do to you?"

"We don't have that kind of time."

"I wouldn't be a bad influence," America swore, "I promise I'll behave."

"I don't know, Alfred," Britain mulled it over, "She's also been sick lately…I wouldn't want you to catch whatever she has."

"It was just a little fever, Arthur," France stepped in, "It broke and she's feeling better. I think it's safe to let her go out and play."

Britain looked at me, then back at France, then back at me, "Fine. I guess it's not going to kill her."

"And it's not like I have anywhere else to go," I shrugged, "Why not? This could be fun."

"You can come stay at my place!" America insisted, "I mean, my boss won't like it. He's kind of got a personal vendetta against any and all immigrants, but my boss is also kind of a douchebag. Like…A really big douchebag. If you're lucky, you won't have to meet him."

"You keep him away from her," Britain demanded, a raging fire in his eyes.

"I couldn't agree more," France got defensive, too. I've never seen them so unified…or so scary, "Don't you let him near her, America. She is a good girl and doesn't deserve that. Guard her with your life."

"That was the plan!" America chimed, throwing his arm around me, "Besides, what kind of hero doesn't protect the girl in the end, right? It's cool if you come hang with me, Terra. That's no problem."

"I'd love to," I smiled. How bad could America be? He seems like a hell of a guy. And my god, he's so cute! Not in the 'I want to take him home' sense, but the 'I just want to cuddle the shit out of him until either one of us can't see straight' sense.

"Well, hell yeah!" he took my hand, "Come on! Let's go!"

"Be careful!" France called after us.

"We will!" As soon as America shut the door behind me, he had a brilliant idea, "You want to go back to my house and blow stuff up in the desert?"

"Um…" I wasn't sure what to think of him now. He was so…I don't know. He kind of reminded me of a high energy pendulum. Besides, I could already feel that aftershock, "No, thank you. I'd rather not."

"Something a little more low-key, then?" he offered.

"Something that doesn't involve explosives or carbon emissions," I requested, "I like to keep healthy, you know?"

"Fine," America gave it another thought, "Video games at my place?"

"Sounds fun," I beamed, "There's nothing wrong with inflecting harm on people in the virtual world."

"Oh, I'm going to like you!" he threw his arms around me.

And just like that, America and I headed back to his house. PlayStation…Alright. I can get on board with that. Personally, I was more of a Nintendo kind of girl, but go off. Either way, I was excited. Hanging out in America's basement reminded me a little of being back home. Warm, cozy, and more electronics than one person had the right to. Although, the electronics back home were a little more…let's call them organic. The opening for Grand Theft Auto flashed on the screen.

"This is cool with you, right?" America asked, handing me a controller.

"Absolutely," I may have been the type to appreciate peace in the world, but a little mindless violence could be good for the soul. Especially when no one was actually getting hurt.

"So, Terra," he and I began our game, "Where are you from?"

"A really long way from here," I told him, running over a hooker. Whoops. Should I go back and take her cash? No. I'll leave her there. Morality and such.

"You're like Tony!" America squeaked, "Right? Aren't you?"

"I don't know who Tony is…" I gave him a look, "Some context would be nice."

"He's my alien friend," he clarified, "He's a good dude! You'd like him. Especially if you're an alien, too! Then, Tony would have a friend like him!"

"I'm not an alien," I giggled. But then, out of nowhere, I was met with a hail of gunfire. Where the hell was that coming from? And why was I getting hit?!

"Um…Terra?" America braced himself, "You might want to get in a doorway."

"No," I relaxed myself, realizing what was going on, "I'm sorry. I need to go."

"It's alright," he tried stopping me, "Just a little earthquake. I'm sure it'll be fine…"

"America…?" a soft, gentle voice came from the door at the top of the stairs, "Are you ok? I felt a rumble and came over to make sure no one got hurt."

"Everything's A-OK!" America assured, "Terra, you alright?"

"Yeah," I saw a man standing on the stairs, a white bear in his arms, "Hi."

The man looked over his shoulder, "Me?"

"Yes, you," I smiled, "Thank you for coming to check on us. Everything's ok. Anger gets the better of all of us sometimes. Are you a friend of America's?"

"I wouldn't exactly say friend," he giggled. Ok. I know I said America was a cutie, but I think I might like this one more, "More like his little brother."

"Terra, this is Canadia!" America introduced us, "Candid Camera, this is Terra. She's new in town."

"Actually…" he spoke softly, "My name is Canada…"

"Well," I melted inside, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Canada."

"Really?" Canada twitched, "You mean it?"

"Absolutely." Was this guy never shown any affection? "I'm sorry, but can I hug you?"

"Please do!" I love him and I want him protected. Without another thought, I threw my arms around Canada and never wanted to let him go.

"It's too bad I can't stay much longer," I sighed out, "I need to be getting back."

"Where are you staying tonight, Terra?" America asked.

"Probably with France," I figured. Although, given how defensive Britain got over me, I wouldn't be surprised if I was staying there again, "Wherever he'll be."

"Oh," Canada smiled a little, "Ok. We'll see you again, though, right?"

"Of course," I cradled his cheek in the palm of my hand, "I'll be fine. I'll see you guys later."

"See you later, Terra!" America waved me off, as did Canada, and I took off.

By the time I got back to Britain's house, it had already gotten dark outside. My body was completely drained and I could stand another bath. Not too much to my surprise, France had yet to leave. And as far as I'm concerned, anywhere France goes, I'm pretty sure I go, too. One of the house staff escorted me to the drawing room of Britain's house where Britain and France were having what looked like a glass of brandy in front of the fireplace.

"Well…" France looked to the doorway, "Bonsoir, Terra. When did you get back?"

"Just now," I told him, taking a seat between the two, "What's going on in here?"

"Having a drink," Britain offered me a glass, but I turned it down.

"I'm feeling kind of tired," I rubbed my eyes, "I think I may turn in early."

"America has that effect on people," France got up and offered me his hand, "Come on. We can do just the same as we did last night."

"Ok," I wasn't going to fight him. I didn't have that kind of energy. Just as we did last night, France began running the bathtub and I dug in the bedroom closet for a pair of pajamas. By the looks of things, I only had silk to choose from. Not that I'm complaining. They're so comfortable. Even more so was the hot water that soothed my old, aching muscles, "Oh, god…"

"That good, huh?" he jabbed, "I understand. And it is still ok that I'm here, right?"

"I don't mind, France," I assured, "I told you. I'm not shy."

"In that case," France took a seat at the edge of the tub, "Did you like meeting your new brothers today?"

"They're sweet," I smiled, "They really are. Wait…Did you say brothers?"

"I did," he mirrored me, "Terra, Britain and I have been talking today. In fact, you walked in just in time. It makes me so happy to hear you say you're getting along with your brothers. Britain and I are going to sort of adopt you the same way we did with America and Canada. If that's alright with you. We want to keep you in our little family."

My heart was about to burst. If not from meeting America and Canada today, then from France's offer did it. Who was I to say no to something like that? France has been more than just kind to me. And Britain, too, since he's agreed to let me stay in his house. I owed them everything, "Gladly."

 **A/N: I love America. I'm just going to get that off the table right now. I really do. He's a delight. Especially in this chapter. And everything's going to make more and more sense the deeper we go with this story. No, Terra doesn't know Tony. Will she meet Tony? Maybe. There's always next chapter. No. I'm not introducing her to Tony next chapter. Although, I'm going to try and work at least one new country in every week. I can't wait for next week's. Because next week is going to be possibly cuter than this week's. And can I say how much I love America being a gentleman about Terra being kept away from his boss? And how Britain and France know to keep her away from America's boss? It just…I don't want to get overly political, but I feel like that's just common sense at this point. Now as for this week's question, mostly out of my own curiosity, where are we all? I know I don't just have people from the US reading this. Also, as a bonus, how accurate is the Hetalia portrayal of your country? Because I'd say Alfred F. Jones is just about right. I'll see you next chapter! xx**


	3. Under the Tuscan Sun

**A/N: Hi, friends. How are we today? Doing good? Fantastic. Doing not so good? It'll be alright. How about to cheer you up, we sit down, read a story, then do a little painting later? Sound good? It's amazing how therapeutic painting can be. You don't have to be good at it. You don't have to be bad at it. It just…I don't know. It just is. And I think that's beautiful. I'm going to shut up now and we're going to get to work. Shall we? Alright then! (And for those of you that are kind of sluts for a bit of angst? You're welcome.)**

I adored the thought of my little family. Meeting America and Canada yesterday solidified that. Although, I wish I would've been able to spend some more time with Canada. He seemed sweet. America was probably a handful in the right context, but I started to think of them both like my big brothers. That meant my two loving fathers were probably having breakfast. I toddled out of bed and went on a search for Britain and France. Not ideal for my foggy head right away in the morning, but I think I'll manage. I live here now. I should get to know the house a little better.

"Please, Arthur," I heard France beg from down the hall, "It's been an eternity since it's been just the two of us."

"We've also a new baby in the house, Francis," Britain argued, "Don't get me wrong. I'd love a holiday, too. It's just…"

"You worry about her, don't you?" France sighed out, "I worry, too. If she worries you so much, we could always get a sitter. I'm sure Alfred and Matthieu would take care of her while we're gone. It'd only be for a couple of days anyway."

"Are you mad?" Britain gasped, "Do you not remember what happened when we let Alfred watch Mattie for one afternoon?"

"That was a lot of maple syrup," France shivered. Terra would like some context. There had to be a story. Maybe I could ask America and Canada the next time I see them, "So, Alfred and Matthieu are off the table. Well, what about Prussia? I don't think he has any plans for the weekend."

"Absolutely not," Britain shot him down, "I wouldn't trust Prussia with a goldfish, let alone her."

"What's wrong with Gilbert?" France wondered, "He keeps Gilbird alive. I don't see why he wouldn't do the same with Terra."

"She doesn't deserve that," Britain protected me. Or at least I'm assuming he did, "And who knows if she's going to get sick again like she was."

"It's sweet how you look out for her, Arthur," France gushed, "But I think she's fine. It was just exhaustion."

"What if it wasn't just exhaustion, though?"

"Such a worried mother," France giggled, "She'll be alright. I promise. We'll just find someone who has dealt with little ones before. Without something catastrophic happening."

"That rules out mostly everyone we know," Britain sighed, "Right. Looks like we're staying here then."

"Listen to me, Arthur Kirkland," France demanded, getting in Britain's face, "I am not getting any younger and you promised me romance. If you do not come through for me, I can make our home life your own private hell."

"Relax, Francis," Britain cowered a little, "Let's all just calm down. I do give you romance."

"How do you figure?" France squeaked, "You haven't touched me in months!"

Should I be listening to their marital problems? Probably not. Am I still going to watch this soap opera go down? Oh, hell yeah. It's getting good.

"I know I've been distant lately," Britain apologized, "I've had a lot going on. I still want to be around you, Francis."

"Then, why don't you act like it?" France pouted, "I have needs. And one of those is someone who cares once in a while."

"You know…" Britain took France's hand. Aww. And he says they're not a thing, "I'm sure we can find someone to keep an eye on Terra for the weekend."

I mean…Terra can watch herself. But whatever helps Britain sleep at night. Although I'd love to spend more time with them, seeing France blow up like that gave me chills. Maybe the two of them needed some time to themselves.

"I do have one other person in mind," France settled down, "He's taken care of little ones before. I'm sure he'd take care of Terra, too. Without corrupting her."

"Who?" Britain wondered.

"Antonio would."

"Who's that?" I've been eavesdropping long enough, "And what would he do?"

"Well," France lit up, "Good morning, Terra. Come. Sit with us."

"What's going on?" I asked, sitting in France's lap.

"Tell me, sweetheart," he snaked an arm around me, "How would you like to meet an uncle you never knew you had?"

"I wouldn't mind," I rubbed my eyes, still not entirely awake yet, "Why?"

"Your father and I…"

"Still not a couple," Britain reiterated, lying through his teeth.

"…Are going to take a little holiday," France ignored him, "And we wouldn't want you to get lonely. So, we thought you could stay with him."

"It's merely a goodwill mission," Britain defended, "You just happen to be tagging along."

"She's not an idiot, Angleterre," France retaliated, "We all know what this trip is for."

"How long would you be gone?" I asked, laying my head in his shoulder.

"It'd only be for the weekend," Britain blushed a bit, "Some time in the country will do us both some good."

"That is…" France ran his fingers through my hair, "If it's alright with you, cheri. Can you handle us being gone for a little while?"

"Of course," I allowed. France and Britain have done so much for me. Who was I to deny them a break?

"I'm so glad you're a social creature, Terra," France hugged me tight, "You have to get that from me. It's not like you get it from Britain."

"I'm right here, you damn frog!" Britain snapped, "I can be social when I want to be. Sometimes, I just don't want to be. Is that so wrong?"

"Most of the time," France poked the bear. Probably not a good idea.

"Alright," I stopped them before it could escalate, "When can I meet my uncle?"

"Why don't we go get you ready to leave?" France tapped on my shoulder, "Then, we'll go see him, ok?"

"Ok," I got up from France's lap and took a banana off the table. My stomach was a little grumbly. And I wasn't quite sure what getting me ready was going to entail. It could be as simple as me getting dressed. It could end me with me looking like I'm ready to hit a runway. With France, there was no happy medium.

He loved putting me in dresses. I didn't understand it, but France loved putting me in light colored dresses that float away from my body when I twirled around. Honestly, that was the fun part. However, there was one part I'd rather forget. France and I sat on the cold ceramic tile right as I got out of my bath.

"I know you don't like this part, Terra," France ran a popsicle stick down my shin, spreading a thin layer of a thick, sticky gel, "But it's a necessary evil. You can handle it, though, can't you?"

"Do I have to?" I braced myself as the paper strip went down.

"You get your social skills from me," he cringed, knowing what was happening next, "But this? It's all Britain's fault. When we're done with your legs, we'll do your eyebrows, too. I'll be damned if I allow yours to develop a mind of their own like his."

"They never get like that, though," I assured, a stinging sensation running down my leg. Not nearly as bad as I thought it'd be. I must be getting a tolerance, "And they're fine the way they are now."

"Precautionary measures," France pointed out, blowing on my bare skin, "Are you alright? Could you handle another one?"

"Yeah," I gritted my teeth, "Hit me."

As France continued the minor inconvenience of waxing my legs, I managed to get in a few good deep breaths, helping to alleviate some of the pain. I didn't understand why we had to do it in the first place, but I guess it's all part of the process. Not that I really mind. I have really soft skin. And by the time I was completely done…I looked more and more like France. It's strange. We could almost be twins. Maybe the more time we spend together, the more we start to look alike.

"Mon dieu, Terra," France spun me around, "You really are quite a cute little thing."

"Merci, Papa," I blushed, "Est-ce que tu le penses vraiment?"

"Since when do you speak my language?" he gasped.

"We have been around each other for a while now," I shrugged, keeping the real reasons to myself, "It's only natural that I pick something up."

"I'm impressed," France approved, "You should hear Britain try to speak French. Dreadful."

"At least he cares enough to make the effort," I pointed out, "You can't fault him for that."

"No," he sighed out, staring at his feet, "I guess I can't…"

"Papa…?" I worried, "Is everything ok?"

France picked my chin up, putting a fake smile on his face, "Everything's fine, mon chéri. You don't need to worry about me. Allons. Let's go see Uncle Spain, oui?"

"Ok." I knew he was lying. Maybe Britain wasn't the only one at fault for the problems between he and France. But that was between them. I'm not getting in the middle of things. But…That is kind of why I'm here. Let them come to me, I guess.

France and I packed an overnight bag for me and the two of us headed to my new uncle's house. I wasn't sure where we were going or what my uncle would be like, but I'm sure if both France and Britain can agree on him watching me while they're gone, he can't be too bad. We walked up to a house with a very ornate front door. This must be the place.

"Hola, France." Oh, hello…He's kind of pretty, "Que pasa?"

"I need a favor," France nudged me forward, "This is Terra. She's recently come to stay with Britain and me, but we're going to spend some time in the country for the weekend and need someone to keep an eye on her. So, guard her with your life. Bye!"

"Wait, Papa!" I tried to stop him, but he was already into the horizon line.

"Ok…" he looked me over, "Hola, Terra."

"Hola, Tio España," I smiled, "Es un placer conocerte."

"Usted habla Español?" Spain gave me a strange look.

"Un poco, si," I nodded.

"Estoy impresionado," he applauded, "I figured that if you were with France, you'd speak French."

"That's a little presumptuous," I pointed out, "I speak many languages. Even some of the dead ones."

"What the hell are you doing around France and Britain?" Spain jabbed, "If you're so smart, you should be seeing the world."

"I've seen the world," I hid a smile, "And I'm glad that I am where I am."

"What are you doing here again?" he invited me in, "Not that I'm kicking you out or anything."

"Papa France and Britain are going out of town," I explained, "And I don't think Britain trusts me in his house by myself, so Papa brought me here."

"Why don't you just go home?" Spain wondered, bringing me into his kitchen.

"I…" That wasn't a punch to the gut I needed today, "I don't…"

"Oh," the sudden realization struck him, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean anything bad by that."

"No worries," I forgave him, forcing a smile on my face, "Because that's what I have Papa and Britain for. And my big brothers, too."

"You're more than welcome to stay here, cariña," Spain wrapped his arms around me, "I hope you don't mind a roommate."

"No," I shook my head, burying my face in his chest, "Not at all."

"Bueno," he smiled, "Romano! Ven aca!"

"What do you want?!" an angry voice snapped as his stomping feet thundered down the hall, "I'm busy!"

"Oh, my!" I awed at the source of the anger. It's strange. He didn't look much like Spain, but I could eat him up, "Que lindo!"

"I know she's not talking about me," he growled, "I'm not cute! Who did you let into our house?"

"This is Terra," Spain introduced me, "She's going to be staying with us while France and Britain are off doing dios sabe que for the weekend. Terra, this is Romano."

"As long as she stays in her room and out of my hair," Romano snarled, "I'm sure things will be fine."

And there he goes. Romano stormed off. Did…Did I do something? I'm pretty sure I didn't do anything. All I said was that he was cute. Spain let out a heavy sigh and shook his head, "Romano's one to get used to. Excuse him. He's not exactly a social butterfly."

"It's ok," I allowed. In a way, he kind of reminded me of Britain. Just a little louder.

"Well," Spain sat me down, "Bienvenido, princesa. Make yourself at home, ok? And again, don't worry about Romano. Just give him some time to settle down."

"Muchas gracias, Tio." I think I may like it here. Once I get Romano to come around.

 **A/N: And so, we have the introduction of a cranky little Italian and a precious Spaniard. I have a huge soft spot in my heart for Spain. I feel like he gives really good hugs. I don't know why, but he's just…I love him. I love him like I love France. Also, I really love the fact that France went through the other members of the BTT in search of a sitter. And Britain's mistrust of Prussia. I'm sure he'd be fine. But it's too early in the story for Prussia. Prussia's going to bust in the story like the Kool-Aid man. You know it. I know it. It's just the way Prussia is. So, I ask you this question…**

 **Which country do you just want to scoop up and cuddle wuddle until they can't see straight? Maybe seeing straight is a bad analogy to use with Hetalia, but you get what I mean. Because I have that feeling with a few. Italy, because he's just so cute and squishy. Romano, because he always seems like he needs a hug. France, because I feel like he'd make me be the little spoon and I'm here for it. Canada, because he deserves all the love in the world. And controversial, but Russia, because he really is a big sweetie and people need to start seeing that. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm hungry and I'm going to get some food. See you next chapter! xx**


	4. Hiding in Plain Sight

**A/N: Hi, friends! How are we doing today? Doing alright? You need anything? Blanket? Pillow? Energy drink? I could stand more of that last one. And for my ring finger on my right hand to stop hurting, but we play through the pain around here, right? It's not totally unbearable. Just enough to know it's there. Let's get to it, yeah? Which country and/or countries shall we meet this week? Hint: It's more than one.**

Staying with Spain wasn't exactly what I had planned for the weekend, but I'm not complaining. His house was big enough for me to be off in my own world while staying out of everyone else's way. Not that I haven't loved spending time with France and Britain and America and Canada, but I haven't had much time to myself. I do enjoy my solitude once in a while. However, my hands shouldn't stay idle for very long. Luckily for me, Spain had a nicely set up loom in the corner of his sunroom and an abundance of yarn. I know how I'm killing my afternoon.

It's been years since I last sat at a loom. This was nice, though. The mindless repetition had put me in a state of pure bliss. As I sat with my knitting, I could've sworn I kept catching something out of the corner of my eye. Must be a shadow or something. Maybe Tio has a kitty I don't know about. Or just as likely a scenario, I'm being watched. I know France worries about me, but I can be by myself for a while. Whatever it was, it had run off before I could see what it was. Oh, well. I'm sure I'll see it soon enough.

Then, in a flash, it happened again! A little dark red blur popped in and out of my peripherals. What the hell? Is Spain's house haunted? Am I going to be the next person to die in this house? No. France told Spain to guard me with his life. I'm not dying here. I'm pretty sure of that. Just go back to your knitting, Terra. I'm sure it really was nothing. So, I went back to my knitting. Nothing overly fancy. It got cold in my bedroom at night at Britain's house, but I didn't want to cause any trouble and ask for another blanket. Not when I can just make my own.

With a third attempt, my little shadow had inconspicuously made itself known. I wonder what brought him in here. Still, I kept at my loom, working on my new blanket while my shadow watched. I didn't mind the audience. He didn't make a single peep. Just sat and watched over my shoulder, completely enthralled by my work. Some of the motions could be rather hypnotic, so I couldn't blame him. And all he did was watch. Spain did have a cat after all. He just called him Romano.

"What are you doing?" Romano broke the silence between us.

"Knitting," I explained, reaching for another ball of yarn, "This is what my flag would've looked like. Four stars for the different directions and my first borns. Blue for the oceans. Green for the land."

"So," he peeked over my shoulder, "Are you some kind of micronation or something?"

"No," I tied my tail off, "I'm not a micronation. You're not the first to ask that, though."

"Where are you from?"

"I'm not from around here," I began another row.

"So…" Romano thought for a moment, "You came here with France."

"That's right."

"Are you French?" he wondered.

"No."

"Are you from Britain?"

"Not there either," I told him, "I'm staying there, though, if you're wondering where to forward my mail."

"Well…"

"Fratello!" a sweet, little voice drifted through the house.

"No…" Romano went pale.

"Fratello!"

"Hide me," he begged, his eyes filled to the brim with desperation, "Please. If there is any decency in your heart…"

"Mio fratello!" the voice grew closer.

"You'll hide me," Romano continued groveling at my feet. This guy really didn't want to see who ever was looking for him.

"Here," I lifted what I had done on my blanket, "Under here. Hurry."

"Grazie," Roman slid on his knees and hid under my blanket.

"Fratell…" the source of the yelling came in the form of a sweet-faced version of the boy at my feet, "Oh. Ciao, pretty lady. Have you seen Romano anywhere?"

"Sorry," I melted inside, covering for him, "I can't say that I have."

"Ok." I had to nudge Romano's feet out of sight, though, "Then, one more question, if I may."

"I got time," I allowed, "What's your question?"

"Who are you?" Should've seen that one coming.

"My name is Terra." I love him, "I'm only here for the weekend. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you, too," he beamed, lighting up the whole room. He looks really familiar, "You can call me Italy. Now, I know I said I only had one more question and I already asked and I'd hate to be a liar because those are bad and I'm a good boy! I promise!"

"Italy…" I stopped him before he could burst into tears, "You can ask me as much as you'd like and still be a good boy. In fact, I insist. Ask me as much as you want."

"Ok," Italy wiped his eyes, "You're sure?"

"I'm sure." So emotional. I knew someone else who could be like that sometimes, too.

"Are you with the Axis Powers," he wondered, "or are you with the Allied Powers?"

"Um…" my mind went blank, "What?"

"Are you on the same side as us?"

"I don't know who us is," I had no clue what Italy was talking about.

"Germany, Japan, and me!" Italy chirped, "We're all the best of pals! And you're not with us, that'd make me so sad. I know we just met, but I feel like I've known you my whole life."

"I've never even met the others," I admitted, "But if it helps, France brought me here from Britain's house."

"So, you're with the Allies…" Italy looked so sad. But then, I blinked and he was all smiles again, "Still, it's so cool to meet a new friend. I hope we can get to know each other better while you're here! We can be best friends, too! Then, you'll get to meet Japan and Germany and you'll be best friends with them, too! Yay!"

"Italy…" a pair of combat boots thundered down the hall, "It's time to go. Chances are, you won't find Romano. He's too good at hiding. And we have other things to do today."

And then, _he_ walked in…My heart had come to a full stop, "Mein Gott…"

"Excuse me?" he perked up.

"Germany!" Italy latched himself around the man's waist, "This is our new friend, Terra. She's with the Allies, but I'm sure she'd switch sides as soon as she realizes how cool we are! And Terra, this is Germany. He's kind of the leader of the Axis Powers. Mostly because both Japan and me are slightly afraid of him. But that's ok! It's how we work!"

I raised my hand up to the man's face, his strong jaw clenched under my fingertips, "You look just like him."

"Excuse me?" he tensed up even more, "Is this a greeting where you're from?"

I wasn't sure whether to swoon or break down in tears. I've seen this face before, but it's been so long. Then, I realized how awkward this must look from the outside, "No. I'm sorry. You just remind me of someone I knew."

"Terra…" Italy kept the sweetest smile on his face, "Indietro amico mio, cagna…"

"Italia!" I gasped, "Tu osculum mater tua apud quod buccam?"

"Oopsie…" his bottom lip quivered…Uh-oh…Then, out of nowhere, a white flag materialized and the floodgates on Italy's eyes burst, "I'm so sorry, Terra! I didn't mean it! You were just getting so close with Germany and I hardly ever get that close with Germany and I got a little jealous and I'm so, so sorry! Please forgive me!"

"It's alright, Italy," I wrapped my arms around him, doing my best to calm him down, "It's alright."

"It's funny," Italy's voice broke a bit, "When you yelled at me, you sounded so much like when Grandpa Rome would get angry at me."

That's why he looked so familiar, "I'm sorry. Sometimes I slip in and out of languages and don't even realize it. And I'm sorry if I made things uncomfortable with us, Germany. It's uncanny how much you look like your grandfather."

"You knew my grandfather?" Germany wondered.

"I knew both your grandfathers," I confessed, "It's been a really long time since I last saw them, but at least I have you two now."

"Does that mean you're going to side with the Axis Powers, Terra?" Italy hoped.

"No," I shook my head, "I think I'm going to stay neutral."

"That's Switzerland," Spain joined us, "You may want to see him about that."

"Hola, Tio," I smiled, "Es bueno verte."

"Hola, cariña," he threw an arm around me, "Es bueno verte también."

"So," Italy assumed, "No Romano?"

"Nope," Spain shook his head, "I can't find him anywhere."

"Oh…" he sighed, "Fine. He has to be around somewhere, though, right? He can't disappear into thin air, can he?"

"No," Germany assured, "He can't."

"We should go then," Italy decided, kissing my cheek, "It was nice meeting you, Terra!"

And just like that, he skipped off to God only knows where. I was left in Spain's sunroom, thoroughly confused as to what the hell just happened. However, Germany was kind enough to explain, "Please forgive him. Italy is…Well…He's rather simple, if you know what I mean."

"I understand," I let him go, "No need to apologize. I think he's sweet. Have you two been together long?"

"What?" Germany gave me a look, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink, "What do you mean?"

"Germany," I awed, "I live with France and Britain. I know a repressed love life when I see one. How long have you and Italy been together?"

The blush on his face deepened, "Since World War I. I was looking for a descendent of the Great Roman Empire, but instead, I found Italy. He was disguised as a box of tomatoes."

"That's sweet," I gushed a bit, "You should probably go find him before he hurts himself."

"You have no idea…" Germany grumbled, "I've had to go to Egypt just to tie his shoes."

"Invest in Velcro," I advised, sending him off. It really is uncanny how much he looks like his grandfather.

Then, it was just the three of us again. Two, if we're still pretending Romano's not in the room. But then, Spain let out a heavy sigh, "Romano…"

Silence.

"What are you calling Romano for?" I wondered.

"Romano…" Spain ignored me, "You're under the blanket, aren't you?"

"I might be," a little voice grumbled from under my blanket.

"Whenever you're ready to come out," Spain rolled his eyes, holding back a smile. He really did have a soft spot for Romano. And I can't blame him.

"Thanks for hiding me, Terra," Romano crawled out.

"You're welcome," I took his hand and pulled him up to his feet.

"Don't think this means I like you," he pouted, "But I do appreciate the solidarity."

And so, Romano stormed off, a ball of concentrated anger. Leaving Spain to clean up the mess, "Don't take it personally. He still says he doesn't like me either."

"And what happened with you two?" I asked.

"We share a bed, Terra," Spain smirked, "What's that tell you?"

"I have the feeling he's the little spoon," I assumed, "Am I right?"

"You are," he confirmed, pulling his phone out of his pocket, "By the way, France just texted me your night time schedule. Do you really need all of this?"

I did a quick skim of the novel in Spain's text messages, cradling my face in the palm of my hand, "Papa means well. He really does. And he just wants what's best for me. But no. I don't need half this stuff."

"Does that mean I can go to bed then?" Was it really that late?

"I'm not going to stop you," I giggled, "You don't need my permission. This is your house, Spain. Do what you will."

"Good," Spain kissed my forehead, "Good night, cariña. Duerme bien y dulces sueños."

"Buenos noches, Tio," I found an empty bedroom and laid down. It's been a long day…

But it was nice to see my boys again…Even if they weren't here.

 **A/N: I love this chapter. Also, if you're curious as to what Italy told Terra, he said, "Back off my man, bitch.". I love the thought of jealous Italy. Especially when it comes to Germany. And Italy is such a little peanut. I absolutely adore him. So, to see him a bit off his rocker like that? Oh, yeah. Big slut for that. Also, that last line…That last line is very important in finding out who she is. You'll see. When the time comes. And I already have some of that plot twist written down. It's in my head anyway. And I really can't wait.**

 **Which leads me to this week's question…Who should we see next? I know it sounds like a copout of a question, but I'm genuinely curious. Since we've seen Mom and Dad and the big brothers and the weird uncle on Mom's side and the weird cousins, who should we see next? I do take requests once in a while. Although…I will say this. There is one exclusion from this list and that's Japan. I have plans for Japan. But any other country? Fair game. So, that's it, I guess. I'll see you next chapter! xx**


	5. Happy to See Me

**A/N: Hello there, you cutie. How are we doing today? Just checking in. Let's get to work, shall we? Not you. You just sit there and read. That message is for past Lumi needing to get this chapter done. I'm ready. How about you? Yep. Me, too.**

What the hell…? If I didn't know any better, I'd think something just moved in my bed. What time was it? I'm pretty sure it was only me in here when I went to sleep. Three o'clock? Relax, Terra. Rationalize this out. I know you're still a tad out of it, but focus here. I woke up and rolled over. I always knew Tio didn't have a cat. My body could relax again.

"Romano?" I whispered.

"What?" Before I got that chance to speak, he cut me off, "Shut up. Go back to sleep."

I couldn't do that. Just because I unclenched didn't mean I could go back to sleep. Especially when my new roommate couldn't stop shaking, "Are you ok?"

I reached my hand out to his shoulder, but he just swatted it away, "Just go back to sleep."

Not until I know for sure, "Romano, what's wrong? You wouldn't have come in here if everything was ok."

"I had a nightmare, ok?" Romano snapped, "And I don't want to be too close to Spain. He smells anyway."

"Ok," I figured as much. But I just wanted to make sure Romano and Spain didn't get into it and things took a bad turn, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No!" he snarled, "I want to go back to sleep!"

"Ok…" It's just for tonight. I don't mind. Romano was just tired and lashing out. I understand. I rolled back over, laying back to back with him. Even though I wanted to give this poor, rattled boy a hug, I had a feeling he'd punch me. Instead, I took the blanket I made today and covered him with it. I'd hate for him to get cold.

"You're…" Romano gripped my blanket tight, "You're leaving in the morning, aren't you?"

"No," I spoke softly, "I leave tomorrow afternoon. Why?"

"No reason," he nestled down into our bed, "Honestly…I wish you weren't leaving at all."

Romano's shaking grew worse. That's it. I know the risks. Punching be damned. I moved in a little closer, "Romano…Are you sure you're ok?"

"If you tell Spain I said that," his voice broke, "I will kill you."

"I won't," I promised, draping an arm around him, "I'll miss you, too."

"Really?" Romano peeked over his shoulder, "Why? I've been nothing but cruel to you since you got here. Yet, you've been so nice to me. You hid me from my brother. You haven't kicked me out of your bed."

"That's because I can see past that," I pulled him into my arms, covering us up, "You can probably be very sweet when you want to be, Romano. Like you are now."

"I wouldn't say sweet…"

"Well," I held him a bit tighter, "Sweet or not. Whatever your nightmare was, I'm glad it's over."

"Terra…" Romano slowly cuddled into me, "This isn't weird for you, is it?"

"Not at all," I assured, running my hand down his back. Spain was right. Romano is a little spoon, "It's alright, Romano. What about you? Is this alright for you?"

"Yeah," he laid his head in my shoulder, "This isn't bad."

"Good." I told him so, "Go back to sleep, ok?"

"Ok," Romano shut his eyes, "Good night, Terra."

"Good night, Romano." He really is such a sweet boy. Whether or not he recognized it, Romano had a lot of his grandfather in him. Rest well, you little angel. Your nightmares won't plague you anymore.

The next morning, I woke up with no Romano in my bed. I know he was here when I fell asleep. Maybe he went back to his own bed? He didn't just disappear. I got out of bed and started to wander the house on a great, grand search for Romano. He wasn't in Spain's room. I don't think he was in the bathroom. Where in the ever-loving hell is Romano? Voices in the kitchen sounded like a lead. And the thought of breakfast made my stomach rumble.

"Where were you last night, Romano?" Looks like I wasn't the only one having problems with keeping track of him, "You weren't in our bed when I woke up this morning. You had me worried."

"I got up early." There's Romano. And I knew better. Technically, he wasn't lying. He was up early. And went back to sleep. In my bed, "So?"

"You don't get up early," Spain pointed out, "Ever."

"Maybe you slept in, asshole!" Romano snapped, "Ever think of that? You sleep more than anyone I know!"

"Settle down, Lovino," Spain spoke softly, "It's ok. Maybe you did get up early."

"Whatever," Romano scoffed.

"Just wanted to know why you weren't in our bed," Spain walked over to the coffee pot.

"I bet you wish it was Feliciano in your bed with you," Romano snarled.

"What…?"

"Don't give me that bullshit, Antonio," Romano rolled his eyes, "Admit it! You'd rather be with my brother than me. He's smaller than me. Everyone thinks he's so cute. He's all around a good guy. Of course you'd rather Feli over me. Now, quit lying to me and say it!"

"Lovi, no," Spain tried to reach out to Romano, but Romano wasn't having it, "Look, Lovino. I don't want Feliciano. I'd never do that to you."

"But you want to," Romano quivered, "Maybe not consciously, but deep down, you'd leave me in a heartbeat."

"And have Ludwig on my ass?" Spain kissed Romano's cheek, "Of course not, Lovino. It's always been you and me. If I was ever going to leave, I would've left by now. I'm not ever doing that to you. You should know better than that. Te amo…"

Romano's face turned as red as a tomato at Spain's affection. And he fell into his lover's arms, "I guess you're ok, too. Now, get off me…"

"Alright," Spain let him go.

I hated to be that guy, but…Well…I was hungry, "Morning, boys."

"Buenos dias, Terra," Spain smiled, "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah," I looked over at Romano, making sure he slept better, "Woke up once in the middle of the night, but it was fine."

"Good to hear," Spain chimed, "You want some breakfast?"

"Yes please," I nodded vigorously, "I'm starving."

"You poor thing," he cradled my face in the palm of his hand.

"Yeah," Romano chimed in, "She's been living with Britain, Spain. Go easy on the spices."

"One single grain of salt would be too much spice," Spain chuckled.

"I've used British food as a torture tactic," Romano admitted, "The scary thing is it worked."

"Come on, guys," I settled them, "Britain tries, ok? His cooking isn't _that_ bad."

"Terra," Spain checked me over, "Are you feeling ok? Are you right in the head?"

"Have you never eaten anyone else's cooking?" Romano worried, "Oh, mio dio…Spain, feed her."

"That was the plan," Spain opened up his fridge and started taking out breakfast food after breakfast food. I'm not going to be able to move later, am I?

"It's alright, Terra," Romano took my hand, "You didn't know any better."

"It couldn't be all bad, though," Spain figured, "She does have France, too."

"Yeah," Romano laughed, "Thank God. Or she'd probably starve."

"Excuse me!" a familiar voice snapped, "I'm appalled that you even thought I would let this little angel go NEAR Britain's cooking. Not in my house. Well…Technically, it _is_ Britain's house, but you get the point."

"Papa!" I threw myself into his chest.

"Hello, sweetheart," France hugged me tight, "Oh, how I missed you so."

"I missed you, too," I reveled in his warmth. Just like that first night we met. But then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Romano storm off. I don't like that. I don't like that at all, "Excuse me…"

"Would you all piss off about my cooking?!"

I followed Romano into the library and found him curled up in the corner. Come on, Romano. I thought we were better than this. Slowly, but surely, I approached him with caution, "Romano…? Are you ok?"

"Why haven't you left yet?" he snapped.

"Because," I sat on the floor with him, "I'm not going anywhere yet. The grownups are still talking in the kitchen. Mostly Spain and France ganging up on Britain, but I'm more worried about you. What's wrong, Romano? Talk to me."

"You're leaving," Romano moved closer to me, "I told you last night I didn't want you to go. Why can't you just stay?"

"I have other places to be, too," I took his hand. Only for him to rip it away, "Romano…"

"Don't Romano me," he pouted, "I knew this was going to happen. Everyone I even start to remotely care about ends up leaving me anyway. Why do I bother?"

"Romano," I stopped him before he could spiral, "Look at Spain."

"What about him?" Romano rolled his eyes, "He's more like a stray dog that won't leave because I threw him a piece of bacon one time."

"But he's staying, isn't he?" I pointed out, "He cares about you more than you know. And he's stuck around."

"I guess…"

"And you can come see me any time you want," I promised, "You know where Britain lives. If I'm not there, I'm at France's house. Or I might be with my brothers."

"You have brothers?" Romano gave me a look, "That's right. France and Britain adopted America and the other one, too."

"Canada," I nodded, "He has a name. But yeah. You can come see me whenever you want. I'm just a phone call away."

He looked down at his feet, "And you're not going to run off with Italy, right?"

"No," I swore, "I don't prefer one to the other. But I do like you, Romano. I think Italy might be a little much for me to handle in anything more than small doses."

"So…" Romano slid his hand back in mine, "I really can come visit you whenever? That's ok?"

"Of course it is," I wrapped my arms around him.

"I'll miss you, Terra," he nuzzled his face in my shoulder.

"I'll miss you, too," I kissed the top of his head out of reflex.

"Aww…" France and Spain stood in the doorway, creepily watching us.

Without hesitation, Romano took off his boot and threw it at them, "LEAVE!"

Romano really is so cute. I tried my best to hold back a smile, but I couldn't help myself. He is precious. I really am going to miss him. Hopefully, this won't be the last we see of each other. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. And this would be no different. France took me by the hand and the three of us started heading home.

"So," I asked, "How was your trip?"

"I told you, darling," Britain reminded me, "All we needed was a little time in the country and we'd be fine again."

"Clearly," I awed. I've never heard Britain be so sweet to me. If this is what he was like after a vacation, he could do that as often as he wanted to.

"It was so peaceful," France gushed.

"I thought you weren't supposed to be back until the afternoon," I pointed out, "What made you come back early?"

"We just needed to clear the bats out of the tunnel," he assured, "Nothing too exciting. Although, the clearing was…"

"France…" Britain hushed him, "Does she really need to hear about that?"

"I guess not," France obliged.

"What the hell…?" Britain walked up to the front of our house, staring at something sticking out of the bushes. All of his face suddenly lost color.

"Britain…?" France worried, "Is that…what I think it is?"

"It's not a new flower…" Britain poked at it.

"It looks like a lead pipe," I assumed.

"It is a lead pipe," France went flush.

"The bushes must be happy to see you."

The pipe wiggled a little, "Privet, moi druz'ya!"

 **A/N: For those of you curious, that last bit says "Hello, my friends!". I can't wait for next week. Because that last line made me so happy. Next week is going to be a little bit of a PSA. I've already talked to someone about this. I told you that I would try and introduce new countries every chapter. That would be next week's country. And with that country is going to come other countries. But all that aside, Romano. I want to give Romano the biggest hugs. I want to give him kisses and tell him the world isn't nearly as big and scary as he thinks. Even though I think the world is also big and scary, so that's counterproductive. But fake it until you make it, Romano. Mama Lumi loves you and wants to see you succeed. Now, I'm in a drawing mood, so I'm going to go do that. See you next chapter! xx**


	6. Play Nice

"Russia?" France had lost all color in his face, but he could still move. Unlike Britain who was a complete popsicle. And possibly standing in a pee puddle. Come on, Britain. Have a little dignity, "What are you doing in Britain's bushes?"

"I heard you had moved in with Britain," the lead pipe popped up with a man attached to it. He seemed sweet. I don't understand why France and Britain would be afraid of him, "And I happened to be in neighborhood. I wanted to say hi to my friends. Is that so wrong?"

"No," France settled him, "But maybe next time you could just knock on the door. Why were you hiding in the bushes?"

"So I could jump out and surprise you," he smiled. I love him, "Who's your new friend?"

"I stepped out from behind France, but France still blocked me, "She's just passing through."

"Hi," I managed to slip past him, "I'm Terra."

"It is pleasure to meet you, Terra," he stepped toward me, putting France on edge, "I am Russia."

"You are just delightful, Russia," I felt a strange warmth in my heart, "It's nice to meet you, too."

"Um, Terra..." France took my hand, "Could I have word with you please?"

"Sure," I nodded, putting a finger up to Russia, "Give us just a quick second, ok?"

"Take your time," Russia let us go.

France pulled me aside to where Britain's statue stood. I'm surprised, France didn't move him with a hand cart, "What's up?"

"You get a pass because you're new around here," France waived, "But that's Russia. He's a bit terrifying."

"Seriously?" I wondered, trying to get another look at the guy. Dammit, France. Why do you have to be so tall?

"Don't make direct eye contact!" France pushed me down, "That's how he gets your soul."

"It's true," Britain started to unthaw, "I've seen him do it."

"I highly doubt it," I rolled my eyes.

"He's right," France agreed, "I heard he's eaten a baby whole"

"A human baby?" They have to be exaggerating.

"I heard the same thing!" Britain gasped, "But with a box full of kittens. That's why relations with Russia and Greece have never been good."

"Actually," Russia joined us, petrifying Britain again, "Things with Greece and me are fine. Why would I eat box of kittens? They're so cute and cuddly. Claws are sharp."

"Terra," France put a protective arm around me, "Why don't you go in the house?"

"No," I shook my head, "I'm good out here. Thank you."

"No," Britain took my hand, "Come along, Terra. You need to go inside. We're not sure where your lineage comes from, so you shouldn't be out in the sun like this."

"No," I jerked my hand away, "I think I'll be fine. I don't see what has you two so spooked."

"It's bloody Russia!" Britain stood his ground.

"And I want to go play with Russia!" Light tremors shook the ground.

"I'm sorry, Terra," France sided with Britain, "But no. Go inside."

"No!" I shoved them both off me, "I'm taking a walk. Russia?"

"Da?"

"Would you care to join me?" I asked, a piercing glare impaling France and Britain.

"I'd love to!" Russia agreed, his face aglow.

I slipped my hand into his. My god, Russia has some big hands. And so cold, "Let's go. We'll be back later."

"But Terra..." If I could shoot laser beams out of my eyes, France would've been a pile of ash, "Oui. Have fun. Be home before dinner."

"Thank you," I kissed his cheek. Then, Britain's shortly after, "Love you. Je t'aime."

And so, Russia and I wandered off from Britain's house. I still didn't understand why they were so afraid of me being alone with him. Russia seemed perfectly fine. They're just paranoid. Or they're overly protective. Maybe a healthy mixture of both. I mean, I did come into their world wet, naked, and barely standing. They have every right to be concerned about me. Especially France. He's the one that found me. I understand why he's so jumpy, but I had to let my kids go. Why can't he?

Regardless, I shook those thoughts out of my head and went back to basking in the sunshine with Russia at my side. He seemed perfectly harmless. We walked a little further down the road and Russia had brought me to an open field of nothing but big, beautiful, bright yellow sunflowers. This place looked like something out of a fairy tale. And it had taken my breath away. I feel like I've painted this before.

"Russia..." I stood back in sheer awe, "What is this?"

"This is large patch of sunflowers," he pointed out, "It's nice, is it not?"

"It's incredible," I started walking through it.

"Do you like it?" he followed close behind.

"I love it," I beamed, "Why did you bring me here?"

"Because," Russia explained, "You deserve beautiful place. You struck me as beautiful spirit. It's not often I can come here anymore and I'm glad I had you to bring with me."

"Thank you," I blushed a bit, "Have you ever brought anyone else here?"

"Nyet," he shook his head, "You're the first one. But if you see scary lady named Belarus, don't tell her that. Definitely don't tell her you were here with me."

"Why?" I chuckled, "Jilted lover?"

"Sister," Russia corrected me, "She's...I don't want to say overprotective, but she can be clingy. If she had her way, we'd already be married. I don't have heart to say no. And I really don't want her to castrate me in my sleep. That's why I keep lead pipe around!"

"Yikes," I cringed.

"Terra," he took a seat on the ground, "Can I ask you question?"

"Sure," I allowed, "What's on your mind?"

"Why are you not afraid of me like everyone else?" Russia wondered.

"Because I have no reason to be," I started picking a few of the bigger flowers, making sure to keep the stems on, "You seemed very sweet, so I figured you were worth getting to know better."

"That's because I have such a sweet face," he poked at his cheek. Russia wasn't lying. He does have a very sweet, lovable face.

"And I'm sure a sweet person is behind it," I smiled.

"I wish other countries saw me like you do," Russia let out a heavy sigh, leaning back on his elbows, "They're all afraid of me. It makes it hard for me to make friends. I mean, sure. I have Lithuania and Estonia and Latvia. Then, I have my sisters. Not all of them are certifiably insane. Ukraine is ok. But to consider any of them friends? I don't think they would respond like I would. My Baltic friends just work for me."

"Why are all the other countries afraid of you?" I wondered, twisting some of the stems together.

"Probably because of some things my boss has made me do," he figured, "We've all done some things we're not proud of. Some of us have high body counts. But it is so much more than that. Just because I've done these things doesn't mean I like it. Everyone has me pegged as sadist, so I don't get chance. That's why it made me so happy to see you defend me, Terra. You have very kind face, too."

"Like I said," I reminded him, tying off another piece of the stem, "I have no reason to fear you, Russia. I like you."

"Thank you," Russia smiled, making my heart melt again, "It can get lonely being me. It's nice to be able to talk to someone so kind that isn't afraid of me. Or trying to kill me. Or trying to smell me while I sleep. That's nice, too."

"It's been my absolute pleasure," I rested my head on his shoulder, nursing my broken heart and finishing up my handiwork only to put it on top of Russia's head, "There. All done."

"Spasibo," he started turning red, "Terra..."

"Yes, Russia?"

"Do you think..." Russia stopped himself, "Never mind."

"No," I insisted, "What is it?"

"Do you think..." he pushed through, "I could maybe have a hug?"

I threw myself into his chest without another thought. Russia gave me the same feeling Canada did. And much like Canada, I didn't want to let him go. Relax, Terra. You don't need to break down. Although, it's becoming increasingly difficult holding tears back. And because Russia was so big, he completely wrapped himself around me, almost as protective of me as France was.

"Russia," my voice shook, "If you need a friend again, don't hesitate to find me. No matter what France and Britain say."

"Thank you, Terra," he kissed the top of my head, "Speaking of France and Britain, I should probably take you back home, shouldn't I? Before they start to worry."

"Ok," I nodded, swallowing the swelling lump in my throat, "Is that alright with you?"

"It's fine," Russia took my hand and helped me up, "It really has been pleasure being with you today. Despite how short."

"Remember," I shoved my finger in his chest, "You know where I live. If I'm not there, I'll probably be with one of my big brothers."

"America and Whatshisface!" he chimed, "I know them!"

"Canada."

"It has been some time since I've seen America," Russia thought it over, "He's least afraid of me. I should see him more, too."

"Why not?" I approved, "Come on. I'm sure France and Britain are hopeless wrecks without me."

As soon as our day began, it came to an end. Russia...He's something else. He's just a lonely guy. And I never wanted that hug to end. The thought of how long it's been since someone has done that for him killed me inside and I'm going to suppress it as much as I can. Russia gave me a soft, gentle kiss on my cheek and sent me back inside to my anxious fathers, no doubt tapping their foot.

I could see it already. Britain with a cup of tea, staring into the fireplace, rocking himself back and forth to keep his head about him. He insists that France have some, too. That it would steady his nerves as well. But not France. I knew him better than that. France is standing at the window, nose pressed against the glass, half a bottle of white wine in, already a slight buzz going. Where did she go? Why isn't she back yet? What body parts are going to be missing when she walks in?

Let's see…If I were France and Britain, where would I be? I know neither one of them are asleep. I'm not home yet. They can't be in the bedroom. They just got back from a weekend of that. If they're drinking their problems, then Britain keeps his good scotch in the drawing room. It wouldn't surprise me if that's where they were.

"Papa?" I called out into the house, "Britain?"

"Terra?" I heard France's feet thunder like a pack of wild horses through the upper level of the house. Immediately, he threw his arms around me, "Oh, merci mon Dieu, tu vas bien…"

"Yeah…" I gasped for breath, "And if you're not careful, you may disfigure my spine."

"Sorry," he let up a little, but not much, "But you're ok? Russia didn't do anything to you?"

"Quite the contrary," I scoffed, "Russia was nothing but a perfect gentleman. What the hell is wrong with you two?"

"Excuse me?" France gasped.

"Beg your pardon?" Britain concurred.

"You're so quick to write off Russia!" I snapped, "I just had the most wonderful afternoon with him and look! I've come home unmarred! Yet, you had me almost believing I'd come home with a few body parts missing! He's not some sort of psychopathic ax murderer like you two seem to think he is! And if you're really going to judge him because of what he's been ordered to do, I'd check to see if your own hands are clean first. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed."

"Did you feel that?" Britain froze in his tracks.

"Feel what?"

"I felt it, too," France agreed, "It's like there was some kind of movement outside."

"Don't try and distract me," I shook them off, "Good night."

 **A/N: Hi. Welcome to my PSA on why Russia needs love. I have a SERIOUS soft spot for Russia. He's my little peanut and I love him. Russia's a massive cinnamon roll and the world needs to realize this. That's why he gets the flower crown of sunflowers. Because he's a little ball of sunshine. That's one of those things that I love about Terra. She doesn't see the bad in anyone and always stands up for the little guy. Romano? Canada? RUSSIA? Just wait until the day she meets Prussia. It's going to be an absolute delight. Now, for a question…**

 **Who do you feel is the most underrated? Some of them could be overshadowed by their sibling. Some could be too swept off to the side. Some could be quickly written off. Who's underrated? I'll see you next chapter! xx**


	7. From Sea to Shining Sea

Wow. It's not often I wake up without any aches and pains. At my age, it's practically a miracle. Considering the day I had yesterday, I'm amazed. This is nice. I got out of bed, cracked my window, and crawled right back in. That fresh air and that warm sun were always such a nice combination. It made me hopeful for what the day had for me, curious about who I'll meet, where I'll go. Right then and there, I felt completely at peace.

Crrreeeeaakkk...

"Terra?" a soft voice broke the silence, "Are you awake, cheri?"

I couldn't hold back a smile if I wanted to, "Oui, Papa."

"Could I come in?" he asked, keeping his voice down.

"Of course," I moved over, making space for him on my bed, "Is everything ok?"

"About yesterday," France began, taking a seat next to me, "With you and Russia...I mean...You can't blame me for being a little protective of you, can you? Papa doesn't want anything bad to happen to his little girl. You're very precious to me."

I cuddled into France's lap, "It's ok, Papa. I understand. Just be a bit nicer to Russia. He really is a big sweetheart."

"Gladly," he draped an arm over me, "Especially if it means making you happy. I want nothing more for you."

"Thank you," I wrapped my arms around him, getting a kiss on my head in return.

"My pleasure," France held me against his chest, running his fingers up and down my spine. If I'm not careful, I may fall back asleep.

"Papa," I let out a tiny yawn, "I'm kind of hungry."

"Well then," he helped me up, "Why don't we go downstairs and get some breakfast? Before your father does something ridiculous like try to cook."

"Is Britain's cooking really as bad as everyone says?" I wondered, slipping my hand into his, "Or has everybody just been over exaggerating?"

"It is," France confirmed, "Have you ever heard of Chernobyl?"

"Yeah."

"Britain went to Russia's house and offered to cook," he explained, "To this day, Russia regrets letting Britain turn his oven on. To save face for Britain, Russia just called it a nuclear reactor meltdown."

"Yikes." I guess it is as bad as everyone says.

France and I went downstairs into the dining room and what I saw I wasn't expecting. And I don't think France did either. A little kid in a sailor suit stood rocking back and forth on his heels. Almost as if he was waiting for someone. To be honest, though, he looked like someone shrank Britain. Or at least turned the clock back a few centuries. France stood back and let me handle it.

"Excuse me," I walked over to him, "Are you looking for someone?"

"Hi!" Oh my God...One word. That's all it took. One word and the most beautiful and innocent smile and I'm in love.

"Aww!" I gushed, "I'm sorry. I know we just met, but can I hug you?"

"Sure," he allowed, "Are you new here?"

"I am," I wrapped my arms around him, cradling this little angel against my chest. I love him, "Does your mommy or daddy know you're here?"

"How young do you think I am?" the little peanut in my arms squeaked. Looks like Britain. Quick tempered like Britain. He had to be a country. And I can just about imagine where he came from.

"Bonjour, Sealand," France greeted him.

"France?" he gave him a look, "What are you doing here? I thought Brother hated you."

"I live here," France explained, "Did you recently escape Berwald's basement?"

"Shut up, you frog!" he snapped. Oh, yeah. There's no way he didn't come from Britain in one way or another.

"I really did raise you well, didn't I, Peter?" Speak of the British devil, "What are you doing here, Sealand?"

"I need your help," he requested, "You're pretty big on the world council, right?"

"I have been," Britain confirmed, catching a glimpse of me out of the corner of his eye, "Hold that thought. Good morning, Terra."

"Good morning, Britain," I smiled, keeping a hold of the little one.

"I see you've met your little brother," he pointed out.

"Brother?" I wondered.

"That's right!" I want to keep him, "I'm Sealand! I used to be a British naval base, but now, I'm my own country!"

"Settle down, Sealand," Britain kept him in line, "You're a micronation. I wouldn't call you a full-blown country. This is your new big sister, Terra."

"Are you a micronation, too?" Sealand asked me, "Because if you are, I have a support group you can join!"

"No," I shook my head, "I'm not. I'm sorry."

"Oh," he pouted, "Great. Someone new that's already a full-fledged country. Bollocks..."

"Sealand!" Britain scolded him, "Why are you here? What do you want?"

"Micronations deserve a seat at the world meetings!" Sealand whined, "Why can't we come and play with you guys, too?"

"I've told you this before," Britain rolled his eyes, taking a seat at the dining room table, "You're still too little. When you get a little bigger, a little older, then we can talk about you getting a seat at world meetings. Until then, you have to settle with the newsletter."

"I don't even get the newsletter! Come on, Britain!"

"Really?" Britain wondered, "I really need to get a better secretary, don't I? Regardless, you still can't have a seat at the world meetings. Unless Sweden brings you along and even that may be iffy."

"Who's Sweden?" I wondered.

"He's who I live with," Sealand grumbled.

"Sealand is saved in Sweden's phone as Mail-Order Son," France teased.

"I am not!"

"Yes, you are," Britain nodded, "Sorry, Sealand."

"Sweden bought the rights to Sealand on e-Bay," France filled me in, "What was it, Sealand? Six hundred million pounds?"

"WAHHH!" Sealand buried his face in my shoulder, "Terra! Britain and France are being mean to me!"

"Aww..." I melted, hugging him tight, "It's alright, sweetie. Tell you what. From now on, you no longer belong to whoever this Sweden guy is. I'm keeping you. You're mine. I don't care if I have to fight him for you."

"He won't put up much of a fight," Britain assumed, "Sweden may be an ally, but it's also Sealand."

"Britain!" I snapped, glaring a hole through him, "Sealand's got enough of a complex as it is. Leave him alone."

"Thank you, Terra," Sealand smiled up at me.

"I don't think you realize what you're getting into, Terra," France warned me, "You're still just a baby yourself. You don't need to be taking on new territories."

"He wouldn't be my territory," I assured, kissing Sealand's little, round cheek, "He'd be my equal. The way it should be with all of you, but heaven forbid. Egos get in the way. Come on, Sealand. Let's go have fun. Just the two of us."

"Yeah!" Sealand didn't think twice. But then, his infectious energy started to drop, "I have to ask Sweden first. He gets angry with me when I don't tell him where I am."

"Alright," I nodded, "Then, let's go pay Sweden a visit, yeah? Seems easy."

"Be careful, Terra," Britain and I exchanged kisses, "Sweden has a bit of a stick up his ass."

"But he calls said stick Finland," France giggled, "Then again, maybe if Sweden had a little more of that stick, he'd be more pleasant."

"Oh, hush," I gave him a little shove, "Come on, Sealand. Let's go pay Sweden a visit."

"Ok!"

And so, my new little friend Sealand and I took off for wherever this Sweden guy lived. If I have to, I'm going to give him what for. Sealand deserved the world. Besides, he was just a kid. It's a shame he's been shuffled around so much. He's so damn cute! I just want to keep him in my pocket. When we walked up to a big, wraparound porch, Sealand pushed the door open. Was this Sweden's house? Not bad.

"Sweden!" Sealand called out, "I'm home! Where are you?"

"What do you want, Sealand?" a tall, angry blonde man walked down the stairs. That narrows it down, doesn't it? I've met far too many angry, blonde men since I've been here. Britain, Germany…This guy was somewhere in between Britain and Germany. I hate to say it, but damn, Germania got around, "And who is this?"

"This is Terra," Sealand introduced me, "Terra, this is Sweden. She's been staying with France and Britain lately."

"Another micronation?"

"No," he shook his head, "She's not a micronation."

"Although," I chimed in, "A lot of people seem to think I am."

"What are you then?" Sweden poked at me, "If you're not a micronation and you're not a country…"

"I'm just a friendly face passing through," I assured, "Nothing more. Nothing less."

"Terra and I are going to go play for the day," Sealand told him, "Is that ok?"

"Yes," Sweden spoke flatly, "Do what you will."

"Can she keep me?"

"No. I own you, Sealand. Run along and play."

Well. This guy is a regular barrel of monkeys, isn't he? Nevertheless, Sealand and I began our great, grand search for something fun. And I thought that, since it is such a nice, warm day, going to the beach didn't sound like a half bad idea. I could stand some time in the ocean with the sand between my toes. And who better to do that with than Sealand?

"So, Terra," Sealand started working on a sandcastle, but by the way he was drawing lines in the sand, he had more intentions of a sand fortress, "How did you come to end up with France and Britain?"

"It's a funny story," I started construction on the western wall, "I woke up in an alley in England with nothing on me. It was pouring rain. And the only one that had the decency of stopping to help me was France. He was already on his way to Britain's house, so he brought me along with him and I've been with them ever since. At first, Britain called me a stray, but he's warmed up to me, too."

"Why would no one stop and help you?" his heart broke, "You're so nice and so sweet."

"Thank you, Sealand," I smiled, "But some people are just jaded like that. Hopefully, that'll turn around one day, but unfortunately, that's wishful thinking. There are always going to be people in the world that are too stubborn to change even though they know what they're doing is wrong. It's truly a shame. But that's why we have to value the good people that are already here. Kind of like taking the good with the bad, you know?"

"I think so," Sealand came back around, putting up another tower, "It's kind of like how all the other countries are kind of jerks to the micronations just because we're little. The only one that can remotely relate to us is Canada. But that would mean someone had paid him any attention."

"Then, why don't you ask Canada for help?" I suggested, "I'm sure he could give you a little pull at the world meetings. Whatever they are."

"You don't know what the world meetings are?" he gave me a look, "You really are new here, aren't you?"

"Explain it to me like I don't."

"The world meetings are when all the countries come together," Sealand explained, "They discuss their politics, their current events, any sort of trades and alliances. It all happens there. It wouldn't surprise me if you've come up at one of them."

"I don't know," I shrugged, "I don't think so. France and Britain hardly let me out of their sight. Except for when they recently went on holiday together, but France said they went to the country for some quality alone time. And when they were gone, I stayed with Spain and Romano. I think they'd probably be there."

"Yeah," he nodded, "So, there hasn't been a world meeting in a while, then?"

"Probably not."

"Then, I could sneak into the next one!" Sealand's face lit up, "If you get an invitation to the next world meeting, Terra, could I come with you?"

"I don't know, Sealand," I had to side with France and Britain on this one. Sealand was just a kid. Then again, maybe he could give a fresh perspective. He will be a full-fledged country one day, "I doubt that I have any pull."

"Aww…" he pouted, "Come on! I want to be in the world meetings, too!"

Sealand was still just a kid, "You probably wouldn't want to be in those world meetings anyway. A bunch of boring, old countries sitting around complaining about the others. Do you really want to be in on that?"

"I guess not…" Sealand came around.

"Can I just keep you?" I threw my arms around him, "We don't have to tell Sweden. You can be unofficially mine."

"Of course!"

Yeah. I'm keeping him. We finished our castle and splashed around in the water for a while. Lightly sunburned and tired, I carried a sleeping Sealand on my back and brought him back to Sweden's house. He's all tuckered out. In his defense, we had a big day. Between all the running around on the beach and all the swimming we did, I'd be tired, too. I tucked him into bed before Sweden even realized I was there. Good night, my little micronation friend.

 **A/N: So, hi! Sealand. Sealand is such a sweetie. I love him like I love Italy. I think of them the same way. They both have that sort of air of innocence about them. But! Now, Terra knows about the world meetings. Could that mean there's a world meeting coming up soon? Actually, there is going to be a world meeting coming up soon. That's something to look forward to. That's going to be a delightful world meeting. I do have a few things I want to button up before I drop the world meeting, but all that aside, do you know what else today is?**

 **It's the obvious. It's Valentine's Day. In all honesty, it would've been a good idea to do a special with France, but I had no idea it was Valentine's Day until this morning. My days have been blurring together lately. Nevertheless, I do have a sort of special themed question for you this week around. If you have to have a one-night stand (because, let's be honest, Valentine's Day is the hotbed for one-night stands) with ANY country, who would you pick? The answer for me is obvious. I'm sorry. But France. France has a very special place in my heart and I feel like he wouldn't allow it to be a one-night stand. France would call in the morning. Or roll over in the morning and ask me if I wanted breakfast. Because THAT'S THE KIND OF GUY FRANCIS BONNEFOY IS. He's so sweet. I love him. Or I have him built entirely different in my mind than what he is in canon. Either way, I'm taking France. See you next chapter! xx**


	8. La Petite Fille de Papa

**A/N: Hi, friends! So, I have a little something, something to share with you at the end of this week's chapter. Hold on until then. Because I promise you it's 100% worth it. So, let's jump into things here, shall we?**

"Terra!" France practically tackled me at the door. I didn't think I was gone that long, "I'm so happy you're home!"

"Hi, Papa," I struggled for breath. My, France was an affectionate one.

"Love of God, Frog," Britain saved my spine from disfigurement, "The poor girl just got home. You make it seem like she's been through war."

"She hasn't been home all day," France eased up on his embrace, "And I missed her so much, Angleterre. Can you blame me? Look at this face!"

"That's all well and good," Britain stood his ground while my face was pressed between France's soft hands, "But we've had the personal space talk."

"Fine," France let me go, pouting in defeat, "You always spoil my fun."

"Hello, Terra," Britain blew France off, not feeding into his tantrum, "Did you play nice with Sealand today?"

"I did," I nodded, following suit, "He's so sweet. I could just eat him up."

"You seem tired, darling," Britain looked me over, "Are you feeling ok? There's no way Sealand wore you out that much."

"He did," I took a seat on the stairs, "I adore Sealand and I had a lot of fun today, but he's so full of energy. I'm getting too old for this."

"Hold on," France popped out of his angsty cloud, "Terra, how old are you"

"Papa!" I gasped, "I'm appalled. I thought you would know better than to ask a lady her age."

"I'm so sorry, cheri," France sat with me, draping an arm around me.

"I should slap you," I went on. The apologetic sparkle in France's eye was absolutely priceless. I kissed his cheek, "But I won't. Because I love you."

"I love you, too, mon petite," he pulled me into his lap, "We should get you a bath, no?"

"Yes, please." I had sand in places I didn't want it and a bath sounded like a hell of an idea. Especially in Britain's bathtub.

France brought me into the bathroom and helped me into the bathtub. This was nice. The warm water wrapped around me like a hug and having France's company is always nice. I tried getting him to bring me some wine, but he said I was too young. It's been a few centuries since anyone told me I was too young for anything. And that was usually from the man I loved and the father of my children. If anyone had the right to, it's him. When I got all clean, France wrapped me in a warm, soft towel and brought me into the bedroom. I dangled my feet over the edge of the bed while he got me a set of pajamas.

"Terra," France called out from the closet, "Do you have a color preference?"

"No," I allowed, "Surprise me."

"I like that about you, cheri," he came back with a handful of light blue silk, "You're not picky. You say yes to life."

"It's not necessarily that," I started getting dressed, "I just trust your judgment. You have an eye."

"Thank you, Terra," France melted, "That's very sweet of you. Now, you need to get some sleep. Tomorrow's going to be a big day."

"What's tomorrow?" I wondered, blissfully unaware I had plans.

"You'll see," he tucked me in and kissed my forehead, "Good night, Terra. Fais de beaux rêves."

"Good night, Papa…" What the hell was that all about?

France was scheming. I could tell. But I was also too exhausted to care. So, I shut my eyes for maybe thirty seconds and I was out like a light. Between the fresh air and Sealand, the little ball of energy, I was tapped out. For now, we'll just let France be France and Terra be Terra and let Terra go to bed like Papa told her to.

"Terra," a soft voice whispered in my ear, "Terra…Terra, réveille-toi, cheri…Busy day today."

I nestled deeper into my mountain of blankets, doing my best to go back to sleep, "Papa…Je ne veux pas me réveiller…"

"That's too bad." I never expected France to be much of a morning person, "You need to wake up. I want us to go play. And we need to be going before your father finds out we're gone."

"Why?" I groaned, "Why does it matter if Britain knows?"

"Because," he sat me up…whether I wanted to or not, "If he knows, he'll try to stop me and we can't have that."

"Alright," I didn't think much of it, "But coffee first."

"Of course," France assured, "You're my little princess, Terra, and I want to treat you like one. It's a shame that it's taken us so long to do this. If it hadn't been so late, we would've done this when we first met. Not to mention, it's been a while since I've had a project. Allons. We have work to do."

"I don't want to," I groaned, laying my head on his shoulder, "Can't we go tomorrow?"

"No," he ran his hand down my back, "Your father and I have somewhere to be tomorrow. We have to go now before he wakes up."

"Fine," I sighed out, still half dead, "Espresso."

"As much as you want."

"And a bagel."

"One the size of your head, if you so desire."

He better come through with that. Because I need something to tell the boys upstairs to get their asses in gear. Especially if I'm going to be spending the day with France. I know I said Sealand was a bundle of energy, but at least I could manage to keep him somewhat under control. France, on the other hand? France is likely a loose cannon. Like a nuclear explosion in a human being. As quickly as I could, I got dressed and followed France out the door before Britain could wake up. I noticed a note on the counter on our way out. I'm sure if it wasn't there, Britain would be blowing up someone's phone. And I have a feeling that France is going to want to work uninterrupted.

For the rest of the day, I became something I never thought I would. I was at France's mercy. Not that I'm complaining. Being France's doll wasn't exactly something I predicted to be in the cards for me, but how bad could it be? Really? We spent our day in and out of shops, boutiques, private tailors and seamstresses. Nothing was too good or too expensive for France's little girl. Lucky me. However, France figured it'd be an idea to get me in something I never thought would ever be possible.

"No way in hell," I put my foot down, staring at myself in the mirror, "This isn't happening."

"Come on, Terra," France begged, "It's fine. Besides, I'm sure you look absolutely adorable."

"No," I wasn't going anywhere. Like I said before, France was a sucker for putting me in dresses. However, this time around, I was no longer his little girl. I was a full-blown woman. Or, more accurately, I was a madame from the Moulin Rouge. The bright red skirt was practically nonexistent and the corset was killing me. Knee-high black leather boots weren't helping either.

"Terra," he whined, "Come on. I just want to see."

I mean, don't get me wrong. I looked dead sexy. But I didn't need to be out and about like this, "Too bad. You got me out of bed this morning. Consider this payback."

"You're being dramatic." That's rich coming from him, "I love you, cheri, but there's only room for one drama queen on this adventure and that's me. Now, get out here and show me my good work."

"I'm not doing it!" I protested.

"Fine," France caved, "But at least let me come in there."

"I don't know, Papa," I stared into the mirror, feeling my skin peel off.

"It's alright," he assured, "You'll be fine."

France's gentleness put me at ease, "Screw it. I'll come out."

"That's my girl!" And so, I stepped out of the dressing room, wanting nothing more than a large glass of brandy. The decanter that Britain kept in the drawing room would do the trick. If not more. But the look on France's face…It made this whole dog and pony show entirely worth it, "Oh, Terra. You look so cute!"

"I look like a cheap French whore."

"Oh, no, no, no," France wrapped his arms around me, "You don't come cheap, cheri. You're more like an expensive French escort. You'd fetch at least forty thousand Euros a night. Maybe fifty, depending on what you'd be willing to do."

"Thank you, Papa," I cringed, "I'm glad you're looking to be my pimp."

"No," he promised, "I wouldn't do that to you. I'm just saying you're stunning, Terra. Not that I want you turning tricks."

"I'm getting out of this," I squirmed out of his arms, "And we'll never speak of this again."

"Deal." Now, I see why Britain would try to stop France from doing this, "Hey, Terra?"

"Yes, Papa?" I pulled the string on the corset, finally being able to breathe again.

"Do you still trust me?"

Uh-oh. This feels like one of those red flag things, "Somewhat. Why?"

"Because we're going to get out of here and go home," France swore, "I called your father and he's tied up with your brother right now, so he won't be home until later tonight. It's just you and me."

"Alright," I changed back and walked out again, "You promise we don't have to go in any more stores?"

"I promise," he pulled me into his arms, "I'm sorry. I didn't realize how miserable this would've made you."

"You just wanted some fun," I accepted, "And honestly, up until that last one, I was having fun, too."

"Really? You're not just saying that to pacify me?"

"Not at all," I nuzzled my face in his ribs, "We could do this again."

"Well," France took our bags and my hand, "Since we've been on this journey of you being made a little cuter, can I play with your hair, too?"

"Totally."

"Yay!"

Did I just sign a death warrant? Because I got that cold asshole on death row feeling. It's France. What's the worst he could do? I'm sure I'll be fine. Everything grows back. Besides, even though today was a bit rougher than I had anticipated, I'm sure France wouldn't put me through anything else to stress me out. I still trusted his judgment. Just because we had this incident didn't mean anything else would go wrong. Although…We sat in the bathroom for a solid hour and a half while I watched chunks of blonde hair fall to the floor.

"You really are quite the beauty, Terra," France wrapped his arms around my shoulders, putting the scissors down, "And now, you look more like me than Britain."

"I do," I looked myself over in the mirror, playing with my much shorter hair, "I look so cute."

"You have been for as long as I've known you," he kissed the top of my head, digging around in the vanity drawer for some kind of product, "The little girl I found in the gutter."

"Naked, cold, and covered in mud," I remembered, "I was there. You were the only person to show me any kindness, Papa. And I'll forever be grateful for that."

"You're welcome, cheri," France ran his fingers through my hair, focused on my roots, "You're very precious to me and I'm so glad you're here. I wouldn't trade you for all the tea in China."

"I love you, too," I cuddled into him.

"Francis?" a voice called from the front door, "Are you home?"

"I'm going to go take a walk," I got up, stretching a bit, "I'll let you and Britain have a moment alone."

"Alright, sweetheart," France kissed my cheek, "Go on. Be careful."

"I will." I walked out of the bathroom and threw a light jacket on. Things were starting to cool off and I didn't want to freeze.

It really feels like quite some time ago when France and I first met. A beautiful Frenchman in the low light that was kind enough to give me the time of day in my hour of need. Even Britain has come around to the idea of me. I've made so many new friends since I've gotten here and I'm so happy to be where I am. Some of them need a little fixing, but then again, we're all like that in one way or another, aren't we? I've loved nothing more than being here and the fact that they all treat me like one of their own gives me hope. I'm glad they've all turned out so well…

"Pardon me," a thick accent hung in the air.

"Hi, Britain," I smiled, "Did you need me for something?"

Britain moved in closer, "Terra?"

"Yeah?" I stepped back. And he talks about France and personal space.

"You…" he poked at my face. Then, Britain let out a heavy, heavy sigh, "You spent the day with France alone, didn't you?"

"Is it that obvious?" I blushed.

"This is definitely his handiwork," Britain scoffed, "Do you mind if I join you?"

"Not at all," I slipped my arm in his.

"That bloody frog has tried doing this with me on several occasions," he confessed, "Apparently, there's something wrong with looking my age."

"And?" I wondered, "What happened?"

"I said no every time," Britain grumbled, "Some line about how I don't say yes to life or some silliness like that came about."

Where have I heard that line before? Oh, France. You're lucky you're so pretty, "Sounds like him."

"But it suits you," he held back a smile.

"Thank you, Britain," I melted inside.

"Can I ask you something, Terra?" Britain began.

"Sure," I insisted, "What's on your mind?"

"Who are you?" he wondered, "Really."

"I've already told you," I pointed out, "I'm just a girl passing through."

Britain gave me a skeptical look, "Really?"

"Really."

"Nothing more?"

"Nothing more."

"Alright," he finally let it go, draping an arm around me, "You really have been such a delight to have around, Terra."

"I love you, too," I laid my head on his shoulder, "Even when you're all prickly with me."

"Hey!"

"Tell me I'm wrong."

"Well…" Britain caved, "I guess I can be a little…insufferable sometimes. Did France, by any chance, tell you what tomorrow is?"

"No," I shook my head, "What's tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," he explained, "France and I have a world meeting. All the countries get together and discuss their respective affairs."

"That's what Sealand was complaining about," I remembered.

"I think it's time you come to one," Britain decided, "If that's alright with you."

"Really?" I perked up.

"I mean," he figured, "You'll likely be the topic of conversation anyway. You might as well be there."

"Ok," I agreed, "I'm in. Can I take Sealand as a plus one?"

"You may not," Britain let out a little giggle, "Come now, darling. It's getting late. You should be getting to bed. I'm sure you had a very big day today."

"Huge," I confirmed, "I don't realize how much of a handful France can be until we're alone. How do you do it?"

"Vices help," he brought me back inside, "But he's really ok when you get used to him and his antics. Don't tell him I told you that."

"Lips are sealed," I promised, kissing his cheek at the stairs, "Good night, Britain."

"Good night, love," Britain reciprocated, "Be sure to send France your love as well."

"I will," I just wanted to crash at this point. But if I didn't say good night to France, he'd kill me. I poked my head in the drawing room and found him with a glass of white wine in his hand, "Bonne nuit, Papa. Je vais vous voir dans la matinée."

"Already?" France got up, leaving his wine glass on the end table, "It feels like you just woke up."

"I'm very tired, Papa," I fell into his arms.

"Alright, cheri," he led me to my bedroom, got my pajamas, and tucked me into bed, "Bonne nuit, ma petite. Je vais vous voir dans la matinée."

Just as I started to drift off, I heard some voices from the doorway. As if I didn't know who they were. It's not like Britain would let just anyone into his…Never mind. I was once that anyone. Isn't there some sort of saying about glass houses and throwing stones that applies here? Well, he wouldn't let anyone in at this late of an…Wait, that was me, too.

"I don't want her to go, Francis…"

"We have to let her go sometime, Arthur. All good parents know when to let their baby leave the nest. And no parent is ever prepared for it. But she is. I know she is."

"You're sure?"

"I'm positive."

"It's settled then. Tomorrow, Terra will become a nation."

Terra's going to become a what?

 **A/N: Plot twist! Britain didn't just want Terra to come to the world meeting to hang out. They're going to discuss her becoming a country! Yay! Also, I want a France. In case that hasn't been obvious since day one. I had a dirty dream with France in it the other night. But that's here nor there. MORE IMPORTANTLY! Other than Terra's bonding moments with her fathers…**

 **I found something wonderful that I need to share with all of you. I started reading a Hetalia fic called Famous First Words. It's on this site. It's in my favorites right on top. You can't miss it. My god, do I recommend the shit out of it. I started reading it on Valentine's Day and I'm at the last chapter. I can't bring myself to read it because it's ongoing yet and I don't want to have to wait miserable for the next update! That's why I update weekly, so you don't have to deal with much of a hangover. But it's FrUK, Spamano, and PruCan fic. England's a porn star, Canada's a bartender, Romano's a stripper. They work at a seedy night club and the BTT are detectives. It's SO DAMN GOOD. OH MY GOD. I CAN'T GUSH ABOUT IT ENOUGH! It's just…UUUUUUUUUUUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. My only gripe about it is the portrayal of Russia, but that's damn near the standard across most Hetalia fic. But love of God, go read Famous First Words. It's rapidly becoming one of my favorites.**

 **Now, for this week's question, it's going to be another plot twist. Do you have any questions for me? Nothing's off limits. Go ahead and ask whatever you want. I'll answer to the best of my ability. The only thing I won't answer is anything that gives spoilers for this story. I'm sorry. But that's the only rule. Anything else is fair game. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to take my dog outside to tinkle. See you next chapter! xx**


	9. Hello, Kiku

**A/N: You guys have no idea how excited I am for this chapter and the chapter that's going to follow. Not today, but next week. Also, just a side note (and a minor spoiler for this week), I am introducing Japan this week. However, I'm not going to be writing in his accent. Just a heads up. K, let's get to it!**

"Terra, please," France pounded on the bathroom door, "Let me in."

"No!" I had it completely barricaded. Against the door, I had a towel rack, a free-standing toilet paper holder, a plunger, the scale, and all of my body weight. no one was getting in this bathroom without my say so.

"But Terra," he whined, sliding down the door, no doubt dramatically swooning, "It's your first world meeting. Please let me in the bathroom."

"No!"

"Bloody hell," Britain joined in on the fun, "Why are you two shouting?"

"Your daughter has locked herself in the bathroom," France filled him in, "I fear she's going through a phase."

"No," I corrected him, "That's bullshit. France had his fun yesterday. I am not his Barbie doll anymore."

"See?" France jumped on the defensive, "I told you. She's going through a phase. Let Papa love you!"

"Frances," Britain spoke softer, "Leave her alone."

"But...!"

"No." Thank God Britain took my side, "Leave her alone."

"But Angleterre..." France begged, "It's her first world meeting! I want her to make a good first impression on the others."

"And she will," Britain assured, "She probably knows mostly everyone anyway."

"I do!" I confirmed, "I met Italy and Germany at Tio's house while you two were in the country."

"She's a big girl," Britain reiterated, "If you're really so desperate to get someone ready...I suppose you could always help me."

I love you, Britain. I realize and fully understand how big of a bullet you're taking for me. After the events of yesterday, I know exactly what it's like to be left alone with France for the day. It's fun. Don't get me wrong. But France seems to have a never-ending supply of energy and I'm too old for so much of that at once. Hell, I'm still reeling from yesterday. I just don't have it in me now.

"Trust me, cheri," France sighed out, "You're definitely my proverbial white whale. Nothing would make me happier than to burn half your wardrobe alone. But you wouldn't be the same. I love you, but Terra would me more fun. She's more attracted to color than you are. Grayscale can only do so much. And then, there's..."

Now, I understand what was going on. It's not that Britain was throwing himself under the bus. He was buying me time. When it came to France's catty critiques, Britain was a stone wall. France could go off on his tangent all he wanted. Again. I love you, Britain. And right now, I don't deserve you.

In all seriousness, though, I still had to get ready. France had a point. It is my first world meeting. I should probably look respectable. Even though I've made quite a few friends since I've been here, I'm sure I haven't met everyone. I looked through the closet in the bathroom and threw a quick outfit together. Nothing too exciting. A short white dress. A few touches of gold here and there. After a spin in the mirror, I had to admit. I looked pretty damn cute. Alright. I can go to the world meeting now. But first, I should probably put everything against the door back.

"They were in style at the time!" Britain argued.

"When the world had no style!" France snapped, "I swear, Angleterre. I'm so glad your punk phase was short lived."

"I thought you said you liked my plaid pants, Frog."

"The shape? Yes. The way they showed off those subtle, yet delicious curves of yours...Mon dieu. I may need a glass of wine and a cigarette after that."

"Well?" I walked out of the bathroom, fully dressed and ready to leave. Before those two made memories in my memory foam, "As riveting as it is to hear about Britain's punk phase. Good enough to make a good first impression?"

"Aww, Terra!" France picked me up and spun me around the room, "You look so cute, cheri. Like a little ball of sunshine."

"Thank you, Papa," I smiled, doing my best to regain my balance, "Can we go now?"

"So eager," France kissed my cheek, "Yes. We can go. Go find some shoes, sweetheart."

"But..." I gave him a look, "I don't want to wear any shoes. Can't I just go barefoot?"

"Really?" Britain wondered, "But that's so indecent."

"What?" I stuck my leg up, flexing my cute, little toes, "Because you can see my feet, that makes me indecent?"

"And the fact that you just flashed me your knickers," he covered his eyes, "But we can unravel that later."

"Which ones were they?" France wondered, "Just curious."

"I've never seen Care Bears in quite that context before."

"Cheer Bear," I clarified, settling France's curiosities.

"Oh!" he knew exactly which ones I was talking about. I swear, France knew my wardrobe better than I do. Mostly because he picked most of it out.

"Right then," Britain bounced on his toes, "Shall we? We do have world meeting to get to, do we not?"

"Yes, we do," France ran out ahead of us.

"Hey, Britain," I grabbed his arm.

"What's the matter, Terra?" Britain stopped in his tracks, "Are you alright?"

Without another thought, I threw my arms around him, hugging him tight, "Thank you. I really do appreciate what you did for me."

"You're welcome," he cradled me against his chest, "I knew he was just going to ramble on. I'm glad you caught my mental telepathy. France can be a handful, but he really does mean well. All of his manic energy does come from a place of love."

"It's sweet," I rested my head on his shoulder, "But I don't have it in me today."

"It doesn't take much for him to go overboard," Britain chuckled a bit, "But before he figures out we're talking about him, we really do need to be going. If we're late, I'll never hear the end of it."

"From who?" I took his arm.

"Your brother," he rolled his eyes, "I drilled it into his head when he was younger to always be punctual and if I'm ever late for anything, he won't hesitate to call me out on it."

"I'm assuming this is America, not Canada?"

"If you'll pardon the vulgarity," Britain explained, "Canada wouldn't say shit if he had a mouthful. Of course, it's America. Come along. Before your father starts to worry and your brother jumps down my throat."

The world meeting hall. Something about it felt like a cathedral. To think, all the countries come here to discuss their current state of affairs and their political climates and their philosophies. I bet this hall has been filled with some of the greatest minds to ever exist. And I couldn't wait to hear what everyone had to say.

"LOOK AT THIS AWESOME CAN PYRAMID I MADE!" a loud, boisterous voice echoed through the hall. At first, I thought it was America, but the accent was too different, "I WANT TO JUMP INTO IT!"

So much for this place being a wealth of political knowledge. Not that I'm disappointed. That pyramid was pretty impressive.

"Please," France shook his head, "Just don't hurt yourself."

"You always sound like you're my mother, France! I'll be fine!" Seconds later, the cans were scattered, "Ow..."

"And this is why I yell at you like I'm your mother," France rolled his eyes, "Honestly, what am I going to do with you?"

"What are you going to do with me?" a red eyed, silver haired man emerged from the pile of tin, limping a bit.

"Prussia," Britain filled me in, "He's more of a handful than France. But not in the same way."

"And he's exasperating," France helped him onto his feet.

"You're no fun," Prussia pouted. Then, he caught me out of the corner of his eye, "Hello...Who is the cutie with you, Britain? I thought you and France were married."

"We're not married," Britain groaned, "I don't know why people think we are."

"Really?" Prussia stared blankly at Britain, "Is that the hill you're going to die on?"

"There is no hill. We're not married."

"Really?" Prussia smirked, "Well then. Hey, France!"

"Oui?"

"Who's the girl?" he looked me over, "Does Britain have a mistress we don't know about?"

"No," France clarified, "She's our adoptive lovechild, Terra. Terra, this is Prussia. You really haven't heard about her, Prussia?"

"Adoptive. Love. Child," Prussia emphasized, "And you two aren't married?"

"Dammit, Frog," Britain pouted, "Do you not ever know when to shut your mouth?"

"So, Terra," Prussia snaked me away from Britain, "Does this mean you're not with either one of them?"

"That's right…" He's cute, but I don't think I could.

"Hands off, Prussia," France snaked me back, slapping the backs of Prussia's hands, "She's not for you. She's not your territory."

Prussia looked me up and down for a second, despite France's warning, "Do you think I could bench press her?"

"No." Both France and Britain were done with him. I like Prussia. He seems like he thinks he's the coolest guy in the room, but he's kind of a huge dork. And that's why I like him. So blissfully unaware.

"Hey, dudes!" Speaking of blissfully unaware, "Terra!"

"America!" I threw myself into his arms, "I missed you."

"I miss you, too," America squeezed me tight, "I feel like I don't see you around anymore! You know. Kind of like Prussia."

"What do you mean?" Prussia wondered, "I'm right here."

"I remember when Prussia was still with us," America let out a heavy sigh, "Seems like just yesterday."

"It's right now!" Prussia squeaked, "America, I'm right here!"

"But he's gone now…" America still ignored him, "Sometimes, when it's quiet, I can still hear his voice…"

"STOP TELLING PEOPLE I'M DEAD, ALFRED! I'M STILL ALIVE!"

"I know…" America was a cheeky, little shit, wasn't he?

"Hi, Terra," a soft whisper chimed in behind me.

"Hi, Canada," I melted inside, making sure to hug him a little longer than I did our brother, "How are you?"

"Can't complain," Canada smiled, turning me into the biggest puddle.

"Wait," Prussia stopped in mid-hissy fight with America, "Canada's here?"

"Hi, Prussia," Canada's eyes began to sparkle. Aww…They had the same sparkle as France and Britain. They're so cute. Canada ran off with Prussia and the rest of us finally went into the meeting room. So many familiar faces. I knew most of the people in this room. And one in particular had caught my eye. One that I had gotten close with since I got here. But he hadn't seen me. Even though he struck me as skittish, I knew he'd be ok with me.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders from behind, laying my head on top of his, "Hi, Romano."

"Hi, Terra," Romano got up from his chair. Only for me to steal it from him and pull him into my lap. Romano and I had a special relationship. And it didn't take long for us to become close. All it took was saving him from dealing with Italy and one little nightmare. I could cuddle this boy all day long. But he got squirmy on me, "Terra…Not in front of the other countries."

"Just let her love you, Lovi," Spain joined us shortly after, "She is France's daughter after all."

Is she, though? I don't think he had that right. I mean, sure. France did refer to me as his and Britain's lovechild, but I'm not sure that's accurate. Regardless, "Hola, Tio."

"Hola, cariña," Spain kissed the top of my head, "Welcome to your first world meeting."

"Thank you," I smiled, "It's strange. I've met mostly everyone here, but it's so weird to see them like this."

"They're not much different," he assured, "Meet anyone new?"

"I just met Prussia a little while ago," I reported.

"Oh, God," Romano groaned, "Him."

"There's nothing wrong with Prussia," Spain gave Romano a little swat to the nose, "He really is a good guy once you get to know him. Anyone else you have questions about?"

"Anyone I should be worried about?" I asked, laying my head on Romano's back.

"Not really," he took a quick look around the room, "Except for maybe Russia."

"I've met Russia," I stopped him, "Russia's a sweetheart and you can't convince me otherwise."

"If you've met Russia," Spain warned, "And you two get along, be ESPECIALLY careful around Belarus. Puta está loca, if you know what I mean."

"I'm sure she's not that bad." Although, I remember Russia giving me the same warning.

"If you live long enough to see the end of the meeting," Spain offered, "You're more than welcome to join us for the post meeting nap."

"No, thanks," I shot him down, "I appreciate the invitation, but I'm too awake to clock out."

"Alright. Your loss," he let me go, a little smile creeping across his face, "But going by the look on Romano's face, he's not going to let you."

I cranked my neck around to get a look myself. Sure enough, Romano was already sleeping peacefully in my lap, "Aww…"

"He didn't get much for sleep last night," Spain told me, "Poor thing woke up in the middle of the night crying. I didn't know what to do."

I pulled Romano's head into my chest, doing my best not to burst into tears, "He'll be alright. We all have those nights. Next time it happens, bring him to me. I bet I can get him to stop. At least long enough to get him to go back to sleep."

"You're very maternal, Terra," he awed, "You don't have kids of your own, do you?"

"I do, actually," I confirmed, "A few. But even then, I didn't like to see them upset."

"Terra, dude!" America came in a little too hot.

"Shhh…" I settled him, "Romano's asleep. What do you want, America?"

"It's not me," America turned it down a touch, "It's Russia. He knows you're here and he's looking for you."

"Ok," I nodded, "I'll be there in a second. Where is he?"

"Hiding in the potted plant in the corner."

Sure enough, I saw a lead pipe sticking out of a giant fern. I giggled a little, "Ok. I'll be there in a sec."

"Awesome!" America squeaked, effectively waking Romano.

"What the hell?" Romano snapped, "What's wrong with you, America? Don't you know what an inside voice is?"

"Uh, Lovino," Spain pointed out, "You hardly know what an inside voice is."

"NOBODY ASKED YOU!"

"Romano…" I settled him, "Can you get off my lap for a second? I promise you can go back to sleep when I get up."

"I wasn't sleeping." Ok. Sounds like bullshit, but ok.

"Alright," I wasn't going to fight him, but I managed to get up from under him, "Then, you can have your chair back."

"Ok," I kissed his forehead, turning his cheeks bright red, "Terra…I said not in front of the other countries."

"Alright," I stopped, "I'm sorry. I won't do it in front of the other countries again. But ti amo, Romano."

"Ti amo, Terra."

I left Spain to pick up the pieces and went off to find Russia. I'm not surprised Russia was hiding in a potted plant. Dare I even ask at this point? Might as well, "Russia…"

"Oh!" the fern rustled, "Hi, Terra. I see America gave you my message."

"I'm just going to come out with it," I sat on the floor, "What are you doing in a plant?"

"I heard Belarus was coming to meeting," Russia cowered, "So, I hide in plant, so she doesn't attack me."

"Oh, dear," I sighed out, "You poor, poor creature."

"Belarus isn't even coming," Romano yawned, "You're fine."

"Really?" Russia jumped out of the plant and threw his arms around me, "In that case, I could greet you more properly, Terra."

"Of course," I reveled in his embrace, noticing everyone who passed freeze. Maybe they'll finally realize Russia's not nearly the monster they make him out to be. He really is just a big teddy bear.

"RUSSIA!" a woman screeched from the door.

"Nope!" Russia jumped back into the plant. Thanks, Romano. I'm guessing that's Belarus.

"Terra," France took my hand, "Meeting's about to start. Come on. I got us a good seat."

"Ok." And so, everyone had gotten settled. It's strange how no one thought to question why there was a fern at the table, but I guess we're just rolling with it. By the looks of it, everyone I knew was here. Although, there was a spot next to Germany and Italy left empty. Strange.

"Alright then," Britain began, "We might as well address the elephant in the room. France, if you'd please."

"For those of you who haven't met this little angel," France took over, "This is Terra. I found her in an alley in Britain's backyard and she's been in our care ever since. Terra, would you care to tell the rest of them a little about yourself?"

"Me?" I wondered, suddenly feeling shy.

"Yes, cheri," France gave me a nudge, "It's alright. No one will be too harsh on you."

"Gomen…" a gentle voice came from the door, "I don't mean to be late."

"Hello, Japan," Britain ushered him in, "It's alright. Go on. Sit."

My heart stopped. One of them survived. One of them was still alive. I did all I could to keep myself from crying huge, ugly, happy tears. One of them lived…And France noticed my sudden apprehension, "Terra? Are you alright?"

"No," I shook my head, my voice incredibly strained.

"By the way," Britain directed our newcomer's attention toward me, "Japan, this is…"

"No…" His eyes lit up, welling as much as my own.

I got up from the table and pulled this angel into my arms, a few tears escaping my eyes, "Hello, Kiku…"

 **A/N: I may be crying. I may be crying big time. And my face may be melting off. Out of everyone, Terra knows one person. And that's Japan. I told you guys I had plans for Japan. But how, my friends? How does Terra know Japan? We'll see, won't we? Next chapter. I promise. I'm dropping a bombshell next chapter. And it's going to be a reaaaaaaaaaaaally big one. So, like always. I'll see you next chapter! xx**


	10. Draw a Circle

**A/N: Hi, friends. Guess what? You know how you've been asking me for the last two months who Terra is? Would you like to know? Would you like me to tell you? Would you like me to tell you who Terra is? Well…We're about to find out. Along with a few other fun things. But here nor there. Alright! Three, two, one, let's jam! _Ms. Olivier…You're doing the Cowboy Bebop opening again._ Shut up, hypothetical assistant. I know. I'm just wired. _Alright then. Just remember not to overdo it._ I'll be fine. Now, let's get into it!**

Kiku's alive. Out of all of them, I never would've guessed Kiku would've been the one to withstand the test of time. I guess him being a recluse paid off. If we're being honest here, my money was on Rome, but I suppose Italy and Romano were around. Regardless, it was so nice to see a familiar face. And even better to have him in my arms again. Despite all of the perplexed onlookers around us.

"Um...Terra," France stared in disbelief, "No one ever gets this close to Japan."

"How are you doing that?" Britain shared France's sentiment, "Is it magic? Some sort of Japanese voodoo?"

"My people do not have voodoo," Kiku clarified, laying against my chest. He looked so peaceful. I missed that face.

"No," I giggled, "No magic. I promise."

"How do you know Terra, Japan?" Italy asked.

"Do they not know?" Kiku looked up at me, sharing the others' confusion.

"No," I tuned them all out, hugging the little angel in my arms tight, "It's been so long since I last saw you, Kiku. Honestly, I'm just happy you're alive. What happened to your brothers?"

"How would I know?" he shrugged, "I hardly ever saw them. I'm guessing they killed each other."

"I love them," I sighed out, "But if I would've known things were so bad, I would've been here sooner."

"But you're here now," Kiku moved over to my shoulder, "I'm sorry. I should have done something to stop them."

"No, no, sweetheart," I comforted him, "You didn't have that kind of strength then. Coming between Rome and Germania...You would've met the same fate they did. In a way, though, you're still watching over your brothers. You have Germany and Italy, don't you?"

"I suppose so," a sweet little smile graced his face. It's so beautiful to see him smile.

"Terra," Britain stepped in, "As touching and right weird as this reunion is, could the rest of us get some context please?"

"I promise, Kiku," I kissed the top of his head, "I didn't mean for that responsibility to fall on you. They really were raised better."

"Terra!"

"Alright!" I groaned, "You really have no patience, Arthur. I swear...You must get that from your father."

"How..." Britain froze, "How did you know my name? Or anything about my father?"

"Francis," I walked over to him, "Do you remember when we first met?"

"I do," he smiled at the memory, "But what does that have to do with anything?"

"You were there while I took my bath," I pointed out, "Do you remember seeing all of my scars?"

"Yes," France nodded, "You said each scar was one of your children being born."

"That's right," I confirmed, "But have you ever noticed their shape?"

"No. There are too many of them to keep track of."

I sat in the middle of the floor, surrounded by all these different nations. All of them with their own cultures and beliefs and ideas. And here they all were sitting side by side in the same room, completely civil. If only Rome and Germania could've done the same. If they could see the world now...But regardless, I pulled the skirt of my dress up, exposing my left ankle, showing off one scar in particular, "Do you see this one?"

"Bloody hell, Terra!" Britain leapt over the table, pulling my dress back down, "You're a lady!"

"Francis was right," I took Britain's hand away, leaving France to snicker in the corner, "You are a prude. That's old Britannia in you. It's cute. But I want you to look at this scar in particular."

"Hey," Italy got up from the table and looked at the boot shaped scar on my ankle, "That looks like my borders!"

"And that looks like mine," America traced his finger around the scar further up my calf.

"Alfred!" Britain really was out to protect my virtue here, wasn't he? I should probably tell him that ship sailed long ago, but here nor there, "Do you really have no manners left? I thought I raised you better than that! It was that time you spent with France, isn't it? Is Canada being a bad influence on you?"

"Really?" France gasped, "You really think I wouldn't ask her first? I did the first time around. And Canada's not a bad influence. If anyone's the bad influence, it's America!"

"Arthur," I stopped him, "It's alright. I appreciate what you're trying to do, but quit it. Hey, Romano. Come here."

"Sure," Romano came down to the floor with me, "What is it, Terra?"

I pulled both Italy and Romano into my lap, hugging them both. I missed my Rome. But all things have their time. He taught me that, "You boys have no idea what you mean to me."

"Terra..." Canada quivered. Whether it's because of Mommy and Daddy fighting or some other reason was to be determined, "You're scaring me. Why all of this out of the blue?"

"It's alright, Matthew," I assured, "Everything's fine. Actually, this talk is a long time coming. Now, back to you two. Lovino...You are so much more like your grandfather than you realize. Scrappy, hot tempered."

"I'm not hot tempered!" Romano snapped, proving my point.

"Trust me," I promised, "Japan can vouch. Kiku, is Lovino anything like Rome?"

"He is a little like Rome," Kiku confirmed, "I can see where you're coming from."

"But see," I went on, "Here's another thing about Rome. He liked to hide from his brothers, too. Everyone has those days where they don't want to deal with anyone. Sometimes, those days last for two hundred years."

"Hey!" I see Kiku noticed the little jab at him.

"But you can play nice with Feliciano, too," I put my hand on Romano's ever-reddening cheek, "That's what led to Germania and Rome being a mess. All because two brothers couldn't play nice."

"But he smothers me!" Romano whined, "All the time!"

"Ever wonder why that is?" I asked, "Feli...? Care to chime in? You're usually so chatty."

"It's because I love you, Fratello," Italy admitted, "I didn't see you for so long when we were kids. I thought about you a lot. And I missed you. After Grandpa Rome died, I was so lonely. And my bosses wouldn't let me see you. They said you were as good as a Spaniard already."

"He won't sign the papers," Spain chirped, "I've tried."

"Me, too!" France sympathized, "That's why our marriage is more symbolic than anything."

"DAMMIT, FROG. WE'RE NOT MARRIED!"

"You might as well be, Arthur," I rolled my eyes, "We've been over this."

"Really?" Romano hid his face, "You...missed me?"

"Of course I did," Italy threw his arms around his brother, "And I'm trying to make up for lost time."

"You have to forgive him, though, Lovi," I told him, "He just has a more flamboyant way of expressing it. That's definitely from Rome. You have that in you, too. It's just manifested itself into your occasionally bitchy attitude."

"Hey!" Romano snarled.

"She's right, Lovi," Spain agreed, "I love you dearly, but you do have your moments. More often than not."

"Thanks, asshole," Romano growled, "I appreciate the solidarity."

"De nada!"

"Hey, Terra," America wondered, "How do you know so much about the Super Italian Bros?"

"Oh, America," I nudged Italy and Romano off my lap, "Come here."

"Anyone else finding this a bit strange?" Germany asked.

"You'll get your turn," I shut him up, "You and Gilbert are a whole can of worms on your own, Ludwig. And I'll need a nap before that."

"Ha!" America laughed.

"Alfred..." I scolded him, "You're your own can of worms, too. I think I remember someone saying something along the lines of you being the asshole of the world. But one problem at a time. You wanted to know why I knew so much."

"Yeah," he changed his tune quickly, "Not exactly why, but how."

"When we were playing GTA at your house," I reminded him.

"And that earthquake hit," America nodded, "Yeah. I remember. That shit was scary."

"I'm sorry," I bit my bottom lip, "Sometimes, my temper gets the better of me."

"What do you mean?"

"Get up," I nudged him up and got on my own feet, "You've all been asking me who I am since the very beginning. Some of you thought I was some sort of spy for the other side. Some of you thought me a micronation. But you've all had one thing in common. None of you have been right. Only one of you here knows who I am. Who I really am. And that's Kiku. I know where you all came from, but I've only met you in the past month."

"Terra," France stepped in, nervous to even get near me, "Who are you?"

"I've had a few names over the course of my very long, very tiring life," I admitted, "Some knew me as Mesopotamia. Some knew me as Pangea. You all know me as Terra. In fact, I'm almost surprised none of you figured it out. You want to know why Kiku was so loving toward me right out of the gate? Because of what his father called me."

"His father?" Britain perked up.

"You've never thought about where the ancient nations came from?" I giggled, "I'm surprised none of you thought to call me Earth. I mean, that is what Terra means. You all came from me at one point or another."

"Does that mean," France wondered, "we're all related?"

"Yes, but no," I knew what he was trying to get at. I knew that they all had relationships with each other in some way, "It's not blood relation. It's not incest. It's complicated. We're just rolling with it. You and Arthur can still be a thing. You're not technically brothers."

"Good," he relaxed, "That's wonderful to hear."

"This feels way too formal for my liking," I shook it off, "How about instead of sitting in a world meeting like this, because I know you all have questions, we have a slumber party at Arthur's house? That sounds MUCH better."

"Hell yeah, dude!" America squealed, "I'm always down for a party!"

"Ok!" Canada agreed, "That sounds like fun!"

"Slumber party at Arthur's house?" Prussia added, "I'm in! Is it BYOB or are we drinking all of his booze, too?"

"Your choice."

"Better BYOB," Prussia decided, "God only knows what kind of warm sewer water he's got."

"I can bring vodka, too, da?" Russia chimed.

"Of course you can, sweetie."

"Yay!"

"HOLD ON!" Britain stepped in, "Why are we having this slumber party at Arthur's?!"

"Because your house is roomy," I pointed out, "And it's cozy. And it's where I've called home for the past month. Why not?"

"Oh, fine," he pouted, "But if anything gets broken...!"

"ARTHUR KIRKLAND, ARE YOU SASSING YOUR MOTHER?!" The ground started to shake again.

"No, ma'am," he straightened out.

"Wonderful!" I beamed, "We'll reconvene at seven o'clock local time tonight, yeah? Does that work for everyone?"

A unanimous yes fell over the crowd. Tonight's going to be a fun night...

 **A/N: It really will be. I want to write a slumber party so bad. And I can't wait for next week. So, now we know. Now, we know who Terra is. She's Mother Earth. She is the all-mother. I've been sitting on this from the beginning and I feel so much better now that I have that off my chest. And now that we know how she fits in the grand scheme of things, a lot of stories can come up. Is there any sort of world event/natural disaster/thing that shaped the world or question you would personally ask at this slumber party? Because I'd love to hear some things. I already have one in my head, but it's going to be a big party, kids. And with Prussia bringing the beer, Russia bringing the vodka, France already having a stash of wine (and Italy and Romano probably adding to it), and only one adult(ish), there's no way someone isn't going to wake up the next morning, spooning a floor lamp. See you next chapter! xx**


	11. Summit Party

If I'm planning a last-minute slumber party, there are a few things I knew damn well Arthur didn't have. That's when my friend, the mini mart, would come in handy. But there is no way in hell I'm going to be able to pull this off on my own. As much as I know Francis would be more than happy to help, he'd run with it and go overboard. I wasn't having that. Instead, I asked for help from the best last-minute party planner I knew. And with it being at Arthur's house, it could be on Arthur's dime, too, right?

"Alright, sweetheart," I took my partner in crime's hand, "Where should we start?"

"Definitely junk food!" Alfred declared, "If it's a slumber party and you don't have an obscene amount of junk food, you're totally doing it wrong, dude."

"Absolutely," I agreed, grabbing gallons and gallons of ice cream.

"I like your spirit!" his eyes grew wider with every tub I put in the cart, "Speaking of spirits...It is a party. Maybe we should grab some alcohol while we're here."

"Alfred," I knew what he was trying to do, "You're too young. I'm not scoring for you."

"Aww..." Alfred begged, "Come on, Terra. I thought you were a cool mom."

"I am a cool mom," I confirmed, not budging, "I'm so cool that I don't want my nineteen-year-old son to poison his liver."

"Fine," he pouted, "Can't say I didn't try. Now, how much time do we have?"

"About a couple hours," I checked my watch.

"We got plenty of time!" Alfred chimed, "But question!"

"Go ahead, sweetie."

"Are we doing any cooking?" he wondered, "Because Artie's kitchen is locked up tighter than Ft. Knox. I think Francis has that key."

"I don't know," I shrugged, "Should we?"

"I mean," Alfred pointed out, "We do have Francis at our disposal."

"Kiku can cook like a dream, too. And Feliciano...My god. If that boy gets anything from Rome..."

"So," he asked, "What do we do?"

I thought it over for a minute or two. In one room, we're going to have the finest of cuisines to ever exist...and Britain (Sorry, Arthur. Britannia couldn't cook either. She started fires. And a lot of them.). We'd be stupid not to utilize them all to their full potential to create something universally delicious, "Order pizza?"

"Hell yeah!" Alfred sang out, "Pizza's the perfect food! Other than a good cheeseburger, but that's here nor there."

"We should be getting back to Arthur's house," I stared down the heaping cart in front of us, "I think we have plenty."

"Good call."

The two of us got everything loaded up and hightailed it back to Arthur's house. There was no way either one of us was going to bring this monstrosity of snacks inside. That's why Arthur had servants around the house, right? And Alfred brought a few from his house, so we had that going for us. I couldn't wait for tonight. This was going to be fun.

"Welcome back, Terra," Francis greeted us at the door, kissing my cheek. But then, he backed off, "Or...should I say...Mama?"

"You can still call me Terra, Francis," I giggled, "It's ok. I promise."

"All this time," he smiled, "You've been calling me Papa when you're so much older than I am...Why?"

"It made you so happy," I melted, "I couldn't take that away from you. Not to mention, it'd reveal too much about me. And none of you were ready for that bombshell yet. Chances are, you would've written me off and thought I was nuts."

"I don't know," Alfred wrapped his arms around my shoulders, "If we wouldn't have seen Kiku so cozy with you...And I'm still having a hard time wrapping my head around that."

"We all are," Francis agreed.

"Hold on," Arthur came back, glaring a hole through the cutie on my shoulders, "Alfred...Where's your brother?"

"Oh, shit..." Alfred's face fell. He looked down at me, "Did we forget Mattie at the store?"

"I'm in here!" a meek, gentle voice came from the living room, "You didn't even take me with you!"

"Hi, Mattie," I sat on the back of the couch, kissing his soft, blonde curls. I wanted to keep him. In a perfect world, I'd take him back with me, but that meant taking him away from this. And I couldn't do that.

"Dammit, Arthur!" Alfred freaked, "Don't scare me like that!"

"I'm sorry," Mattie apologized, "I didn't mean to make you worry, but it's nice to see you care."

"Of course I do," Alfred jumped the couch, plopping down next to his brother, "But you're a sneaky one."

"Oh..."

"Mattie, no," I stopped him, "You don't need to apologize for anything. You're fine."

"Ok." I swear to God. One smile from this angel was enough to light up the whole world. I love him.

"So," Francis joined us, "Are we all ready for tonight?"

"Just about," I nodded, "Do we decorate? Should we bother decorating?"

"It's just like the world meetings, cheri," he assured.

"Without all the pain in the ass formalities," Alfred added, "All killer, no filler!"

"Is there anything else you need?" Arthur offered, "Or are my credit cards already maxed enough?"

"No," I shook my head, "Everything's taken care of. And we didn't max your credit cards."

"It's not you I'm worried about, darling..."

"Hey!" Alfred whined, "I don't max your credit cards! You don't sugar daddy me around!"

"Oh, I've seen your debt," Arthur took a heavy sip from his tea. Which by the sounds of things, it's PIPING hot today, "If I were sugar daddying you around, Alfred, do you know how much of a mess I'd have to clean up? No, thanks."

"Alright, boys," I settled them before hands were thrown, "Put your dicks away. We have bigger fish here. And there is no goddamn way I'm doing this on my own. Let's go!"

Francis, Alfred, Matthew, and Arthur jumped up to their feet and started heading to the ballroom. Arthur's fancy. Of course he has a ballroom. However, I doubt that it gets used much. If it does, it's likely because Francis batted his eyelashes at him. For the rest of the afternoon, my boys got everything put together while I stood upstairs in the closet, picking out my pajamas for the night.

Francis had been putting me in silk since the day I got here. In all honesty, I didn't have the heart to tell him that I wasn't too big on silk. Sure, it felt nice and I wasn't going to complain when I was stark ass naked. But I moved around a lot in my sleep and how I didn't slide out of bed will forever baffle me. I wasn't feeling the daintier things that Francis liked to put me in. While they were downstairs, sorting out the final details for the night and some of the others filtered in, I snuck across the hall into Arthur's bedroom. He and I were relatively the same size. Although, he was taller than I was. Perfect. That meant a pair of flannel pajama bottoms would hang looser on me. Yay!

Sure enough, like a beacon from home shined down on them, a pair of dark green plaid flannel bottoms stared me in the eye. I grabbed them and a black t-shirt and got redressed. Not that this dress hasn't been comfortable. It's just that I'm done being that for the day. And I want to be this now. Such a simple transition. I'm good enough, right? I did one last look in the mirror and pulled a few pieces of hair out of my face. There. Perfect. Now, I'm almost regretting Francis cutting it. Regardless, I think I'll be alright.

As soon as I walked in, all the countries that were at the meeting sat around in Arthur's ballroom. They're all so cute in their own special way. I know I said I wanted to take Mattie home with me, but if there was a way to take them all, I wouldn't think twice. Everyone under one roof…Can't say I ever got to do this with my kids. At least I had their descendants here. Every single one of them. For the most part.

"Sorry we're late," Berwald walked in with a shadow behind him, "Someone was too indecisive."

"Terra!" his shadow jumped into my arms, "I missed you!"

"I missed you, too, Peter," I hugged him tight, "That's why I invited you in the first place."

"Hey," Peter chirped, "You know my name."

"Of course I do," I kissed his cheek, "I know everyone's name in here. In one way or another, sweetheart, you all came from me."

"You're me mum?!" Peter's eyes were about to pop out of his head.

"That's right," I remembered, "You weren't at the world meeting. Yeah. In a way. You came from Arthur, did you not? Hence why your last name is Kirkland?"

"Yeah."

"Arthur came from Britannia," I explained, "Who came from me."

"So, that would make you my great grandma!"

Wow…In my time down here, I've never felt so old than I did right now…

"No, Peter," I shut my eyes, "Go find somewhere to sit."

"Ok." It's not like he knew what he was saying. In a way, he was right. I was. But at the same time, I want to forget he ever said it.

"So," I kicked my feet up, "I guess we can leave this to an open forum. I'm sure you all have questions."

"Where have you been all this time?" Arthur kicked things off, "Why are you just now here?"

"One question at a time," I settled him, "But I have a very cushy place up there. I've been living in the vastness for space since the dawn of time. It's quite comfortable. It's just been Time and me. My Cronos…"

"Cronos comes from my country's myth," Hercules, who I had yet to see since I've been here, chimed in, "He's the God of Time."

"There's also a myth that he ate his babies," I pointed out, "Clearly, he didn't. Do you know who started that rumor?"

"No."

"I miss him," I sighed out, "It's been so long since I got to see him. He's always busy. He never could stand still."

"Is he our father?" Ivan asked.

"No," I shook my head, "He's the father of the ancient nations. And eventually, the ancient nations would father most of you. At least you never asked me if I got around…Francis…"

"How was I supposed to know you'd be our mother?" Francis defended himself, "I'm sorry!"

"You also asked me how old I was," I reminded him, "Would you like to know my weight, too?"

"No," he kept a rather tight lip after that.

"I'm only screwing with you, Francis," I laid my head on his shoulder, "I'm a little over four and a half billion years old. My weight is going to be a secret I take to the grave. As for why I'm here. Let's just say you all needed me in your lives in one way or another. For me to solve all your problem would be exhausting, but not totally undoable. Just not right now. For now, I just want to see my babies. My babies who I haven't seen in so long. And I'm glad that you're all here."

"We're glad to be here, cheri," Francis draped an arm around me.

"Hey, Mattie," I waved a finger to him, "Come here."

"Ok," Matthew sat in front of me, already half asleep. Aww…He's so cute. I wrapped my arms around him and he sunk into my embrace. I…love him. Softly, I started petting his head, suddenly having a beautiful flashback to having one of my babies in my lap. And a little sob escaped my throat, "Terra…? Are you ok?"

I held him a little closer, "Of course, Germania. I'm ok."

"Germania?" Ludwig perked up.

"Is she talking about old man Germania?" Gilbert followed suit.

"I'm sorry," I shook it off, "When Germania was young, I used to sit with him like this all the time. He and I were close. Every night before Cronos and I would put them all to bed, Germania would always find me, curl up in my lap…He'd usually be the first one asleep."

"You're sure we're talking about the same guy?" Gilbert gave me a look, "Germania. Big, strong, occasionally scary Germania?"

"That's right," I confirmed, twisting a lock of Mattie's hair around my finger, "He was so sweet when he was little. And we kept close as he got older. Then, you and Ludwig came about. You two were adorable when you were babies. So niedlich…"

"That's another thing that had me curious," Antonio wondered, "When we first met, you spoke flawless Spanish to me."

"And when we met," Feliciano added, sitting in Ludwig's lap, "You spoke like Grandpa Rome."

"You've always spoken English to us," Alfred pointed out.

"And when you woke up your first night here," Francis joined in, "You spoke fluent French. How do you know so many languages?"

"She probably invented them," Arthur assumed.

"No," I giggled, "Oh, that's a story. I was at the Tower of Babel."

"That was a real place?" Lovino wondered, his head resting on Antonio's shoulder blade.

"It was a very real place," I confirmed, "Oh, boy…I'm not sure if you should hear that."

"Come on, Terra," Francis insisted, "Whatever it was, I'm sure we've done a lot worse."

"I'll keep it as PG as I can," I hardly remembered much from that night, "Long story short, some of the others and I started splitting the languages up from the mother tongue. And…well…We got so hammered…Once they were all split, we were slurring everything together. One language was getting crossed with another. Some words were getting different roots in different places. And before we all knew it, we had successfully created English."

"How was that English?" Alfred scoffed.

"You wouldn't understand," I told him, "You natively speak it. Anyone who tries to learn English, I pray for them. And apologize. Di and Cronos were going shot for shot and Cronos thought he could drink Di under the table."

"Who's Di?" Arthur asked.

"That wouldn't be Dionysus," Hercules figured, mumbling in his sleep, "Would it?"

"Oh, yeah," I nodded, "Di's a lush. Big time. He's a good guy. He really is. But…When he had a few in him…And when he and Cronos would get into their petty little pissing contests, someone had to pay the price. Little did we know, it'd be for millenniums to come."

"Mama likes to party," Antonio smirked, "Doesn't she?"

"I asked them to stop," I threw my hands up, having Matthew sound asleep in my lap. Lightweight, "But they kept saying they were fine."

"So," Feliciano figured, "Cronos and Dionysus were kind of like Grandpa Rome and Germania?"

"Far from it," I explained, "Cronos and Dionysus were the best of friends. Once in a while, though, their egos would get in the way of things and make messes."

Grrrrrrr…

"That sounds like an idea," Alfred could hear my stomach grumble from a mile away.

"Oh, hell yeah," I agreed, "Alfred, why don't…No. Not you."

"Not me?"

"No," I scanned the crowd of faces, "Lovino. I trust you with my life. Go order pizza for all of us."

"Can do!" Lovino got up from the floor and headed for the nearest phone.

"What about me?" Alfred whined, "I can order pizza, too."

"I love you," I prefaced, "But never send an American to do an Italian's job. Feli, sweetheart, you looked too comfortable to move."

"Grazie, Terra," Feliciano's face lit up, nuzzling itself back in Ludwig's muscle.

"And once Lovino comes back," I decided, sitting Mattie up a little more. He didn't even flinch, "We can put the little ones to bed and proceed to get this party a little less dead. Peter, that means you."

"Aww…"

"Don't worry, honey," I giggled, "I'll probably be putting Mattie to bed, too."

"No way, dude," Alfred wasn't having it, "Mattie can party his face off. He's too much fun."

"I see what you're trying to do," I pointed out, "But I don't think he's got it in him."

"He just needs something to spark a second wind," he figured, "Mattie's not sleeping. Watch this. Ahem…When I make pancakes in the morning, I like to top them with whipped cream and fresh fruit because maple syrup is overrated."

Without missing a beat, Matthew sat straight up.

"YOU SHUT YOUR LYING WHORE MOUTH, ALFRED!"

"MATTHEIU!" Francis gasped. I've never heard this kid so vocal. And if I didn't know any better, I'd think Francis just fainted.

Mattie jumped up from my lap and grabbed his brother by his shirt collar, "TAKE IT BACK, YOU ASSHOLE! TAKE IT BACK!"

Oh, yeah. Francis totally fainted.

"There you are, champ," Alfred beamed, "Alright. Mattie's got a quarter in him. Let's get this party started!"

 **A/N: This almost didn't happen. I was destroyed this afternoon and lost all ambition, but I powered through! A little bit of excitement and seed planting this chapter. And an amusing anecdote about how language happened. If you thought this week was a barrel of monkeys, just wait until next week when a little bit of liquid courage is added into the mix. Also, one like is one prayer for Francis hearing Mattie call Alfred a whore. And an asshole. But it worked, didn't it? See you next chapter! xx**


	12. Dancing Queen

"You're sure I'm not going to miss anything?" Peter worried, nestling down into his bed for the night. He seemed to think that the grown-ups were an absolute blast. I mean, we were also adding liquor to this mess tonight. It's guaranteed to get exciting. But Peter was still practically a baby. For his own safety, he's going to bed.

"I'm sure," I tucked him in, "It's just going to be us sitting around, discussing world politics. Besides, I can see it in those big eyes of yours, Peter. You're fighting sleep, sweetheart. Just go to sleep, ok?"

"Alright," he curled into my thigh, letting out a big yawn, "Good night, Terra."

"Good night, Peter," I kissed his round little cheek, "I love you. I'll see you in the morning."

I turned the lights off on my way out and made my way back to the ballroom. It looked like everyone else was just getting started. Feliciano had himself wrapped around Ludwig's arm, finishing his ninth piece of pizza. Arthur and Lovino sat on Francis and Antonio's respective laps while they cracked wise. Kiku was off with Alfred, staring at a phone screen for some reason. I'm not going to ask what was on that phone screen, considering it had Alfred drooling. That's none of my business. I sat back and stared in awe. This was all I ever wanted.

Look at them all, Cronos. They've all been at each other's throats for centuries. But right here and right now? They're all getting along. No one's fighting over the other's politics or how much land one has over the other. No blood is being spilled. It's beautiful, isn't it? If only our boys could see this. They'd be so proud of the world they've helped to create. Of the country their shut-in little brother has become.

"Dude," Alfred wondered, looking outside, "Since when did it start raining? I thought we weren't supposed to get any bad weather tonight."

"Terra...?" Francis noticed as I walked in the room, "Are you alright, cheri?"

"Yeah," my voice broke, "I'm fine. I could stand a drink. But we need to keep it down tonight. I just got Peter to bed."

"Peter can sleep through a freight train during an earthquake and a tornado," Arthur scoffed, "We don't have to worry about him."

"Alright," I guess I'll just have to keep my temper in check tonight. Good. Because I've always been a happy drunk, "Ivan?"

"Da?" the potted plant spoke, making the rest of the room go cold.

"Could you be a lamb and mix Mama a drink please?" I requested, "I need some of the naughty potato water from your side of the world. With a bit of lemon juice. If you don't mind."

"It'd be my pleasure," Ivan emerged from his hiding spot.

"Spasibo, kotenok," I took a seat on a long, wide couch.

"Pozhaluysta!" And like the good boy he is, Ivan mixed me a lemon drop as I asked and brought me a martini glass. Bless him, "Is it strong enough?"

I took a good, heavy swallow, handing him the empty glass, "Yes. Perfect."

"Mein Gott..." Gilbert stared me down, "I'm impressed."

"You're damn right, you're impressed," I smirked, "Where do you boys think Germania got his ability to drink? Certainly not Cronos."

"Germania could definitely drink," Kiku agreed, "Almost too well."

"I'm surprised that boy had a liver left," I giggled, "It's one of the few times where he and Rome could get along."

"Here, Terra," Ivan handed me another one, "Am I just going to tend bar tonight?"

"Nobody's stopping you," I allowed, "If you want to sit and sling drinks for the night, that'd be wonderful. You got a talent for it."

"I still don't like the thought of you drinking, Terra," Francis scolded me.

"I'm millenniums older than you, Francis," I rolled my eyes, "I'll be fine. I can handle myself. So, if there are no more objections, I think we could stand to make this a whole hell of a lot more interesting than the world meetings, yeah?"

"I like her," Gilbert plopped down next to me, "Can we keep her?"

"She's not to be kept," Arthur stepped to my defense. Unnecessarily. He really didn't trust Gilbert with a goldfish, did he? And we can't have someone killing my buzz tonight. I'm here for a good time with my babies. If I remember correctly, according to Alfred, Arthur's kind of a lightweight. But according to Francis, he's a weepy drunk. Maybe when Arthur's drunk, it works on him like ecstasy. It heightens the emotions that are already there. It's a risk I'm willing to take.

"Ivan," I groaned, not needing a mother tonight, "Could you make a drink for Arthur, too? Something needs to pull the stick out of his ass."

"Absolutely!" He really is such a good boy.

"No, no, no!" Arthur stood his ground, "I am not letting bloody Russia mix me a drink! How am I going to know it's not poisoned?"

"Arthur," Ivan's face fell, "I'm hurt. At one time, maybe I think about poisoning your drinks. But that isn't who I am anymore. I promise."

"I've lived," I pointed out, "I don't think Ivan's going to poison you."

Arthur's mistrust still lingered on his face, "I will be watching. Closely. But vodka doesn't suit me. Bourbon highball. Hold the lemon."

"Aye, aye!"

"Alright!" Alfred squealed, "Let's get this party started!"

"And a ginger ale for the little one," I stepped in, "You're not drinking, Alfred. I should've tucked you in, too."

"Aww..."

"Um...Terra," Mattie pulled at my sleeve, "Technically, I'm old enough in my country to drink..."

"Go ahead, baby," I allowed, "You can have all you want. Just remember that no one likes a sloppy drunk."

"Hey, Mattie..." Alfred got close to his brother to the north, "You think we could talk over here?"

I've seen this move before, "Alfred..."

"We're just going to talk!" he whined.

"That's all well and good," I assured, "But don't extort drinks out of your brother. That's a dick move."

"I wasn't going to!" But in fact, that's exactly what he was going to do.

"Alright," I let him go, "Shall we then?"

Ivan kept making drinks. And we kept drinking them. One right after another.

And another...

And another...

And another...

And then, the night started to get interesting. Feliciano and Lovino skipped the glasses and had a bottle of red wine each. Ludwig and Gilbert's steins were never empty. Francis knew better than to get shitfaced and nursed his white wine. We had the music up. Everyone was having a good time. Then...There was Arthur. My poor, sweet Arthur...

"Terra..." he bawled in my shoulder, "I need a friend."

"I'm your mother, sweetheart," I gave him a little pat on the back, "What seems to be the problem?"

"I once ruled the world," Arthur slurred, "I had everyone eating out of the palm of my hand. The sun never sat on the British empire! I was practically king of the world!"

"Yes, you were." Where was Francis?

"Have I let her down?" he wept, his tears soaking my shoulder, "Have I let Mummy Britannia down?"

"No," I hugged him tighter, "No, no, no, baby. Britannia couldn't be prouder. You were her little angel. Her little poppet, weren't you?"

Arthur's crying slowed, but his breathing still hitched, "You…You think so?"

"I know so," I ran my fingers down the back of his arm, "She used to gush about you, Arthur."

"Mummy talked about me?" he hiccupped.

"All the time," I told him, "She came to me once a very long time ago. You were so sick. She was so scared she'd lose you. And every time you'd get sick after that, she'd lose hours and hours of sleep worrying about you."

"She did?" Uh-oh…Why do I have a feeling that Arthur was about to flood the room?

"Of course," I kept a brave face while I quietly scanned the room for Francis, "She adored you, Arthur. Britannia wouldn't trade you for anything."

Now would be a bad time to tell him about the time Britannia damn near sold Arthur for a few pieces of dried goat. She was tired and hungover after her big brother Germania took her out the night before. Needless to say, Germania and Britannia didn't go out for a while after that. And we had some words. Luckily, I found my out. However, Arthur found him first.

"Oi! Frog!" Arthur beamed, "Guess what?"

"Oh…Mon dieu…" Francis knew what was going on, "What, Angleterre?"

"My mummy loved me!" Arthur fell into him, "She loved me so much!"

"That's great, Arthur," he checked with me, "Why don't we go discuss this in our bedroom?"

"I see what you're trying to do," Arthur went from teary eyed to ridiculously flirty at the drop of a hat, "You just want to get me in bed, so we can do what we did in the country, aren't you? God, you're so… _French._ Well, Arthur Kirkland…Is no two-pence whore!"

"No, mon amour," Francis took him off my hands and brought him into his chest, "You're beyond obliterated. It wouldn't be right. You should know better. There's a difference between love and abuse and you're in no shape to give me your consent."

"Or remember what our safe word was," Arthur added. That's their business.

"However you have to justify it," Francis let it go, "Come on. Let's go to bed."

"Alright, Francis," Arthur could hardly stand. I prayed for him.

"Francis," I stopped him before he and Arthur headed upstairs, "Are you coming back down or is it bedtime for you, too?"

"Like you said," Francis smiled, melting my heart, "You're more than capable of looking out for yourself. But a word of advice? Don't find yourself between Antonio and Gilbert. I love them dearly, but sometimes, they don't know how to keep their hands to themselves."

"Noted."

Arthur fell over into my shoulder, attempting to give me a hug, but more or less holding himself up, "Good night, Mummy…"

"Good night, sweetheart," I kissed his forehead, "Thank you, Francis."

"De rien," Francis kissed my cheek and took Arthur off my hands.

And that was the beginning of the end. Things only got worse from there. As much as I loved my boys, they could be a handful with a little giggle juice in them. Alfred had already fallen asleep. He said he could handle being down here with us, yet he's out like a light. And he was the only one among us that hadn't been drinking. Good for you, Alfred. I'm proud of you.

"Terra! Terra!" Feliciano ran up to me, his cheeks bright red, "Ait autem amen dico fabulam (Let me tell you a story!)!"

Oh, no…Feli's drunk. Francis warned me. I was about to hear something about my son I didn't want to. Someone needs to cut the cute, little Italian off, "Sure, Feliciano. Tell me."

"Iterum," he began, "Avo Romae indicavit mihi de homine cum admodum magnum mentula, multa enim dominatio eius! Habebat digitus in captionem. Avus adhaesit eius mentula in unum finem. Homine in aliis. Et got adhaesit! Numquid non ridiculam eam (Once, Grandpa Rome told me about a man with a great dick, bigger than his own! He had a finger trap. Grandpa stuck his dick in one end. The man in the other. And got stuck! Isn't that funny?)?"

"That's a little more than I need to know, Feliciano," I winced, "Where's Ludwig?"

"Mmm," Feliciano swooned, "Ludwig tam calidus… Sex pedes Domini delectamenti Germanico bubulae (Ludwig is so hot…Six feet of delicious German beef…)."

I see I'm going to have to snap him out of it, "Cogito (Think), Feliciano."

"Probably half naked in a coat closet," he figured, "Why?"

"Because…" Now, I had bigger fish to tend to. Especially when Lovino starts taking his clothes off, "LOVINO, NO!"

"WHY THE HELL NOT?" This is getting out of hand. This is getting out of hand very quickly.

"Tu le dices, bebe," Antonio encouraged, throwing singles up on the table, "Sacude ese culito caliente tuyo!"

Now, I understand why they didn't do this more often. Nothing would ever get done and the balance would fall into chaos. These were our children, Cronos. I hope you're proud. On that same table Lovino was dancing on, Hercules was sleeping like a baby. He really could sleep anywhere. And…Strangely enough, I didn't have Kiku pegged as a little spoon. Certainly not to Hercules, but to each their own, I guess.

"Du är dans!" Oh, sweet lord, "Du är sång! Natten blir aldrig för lång! Oh, sjutton år! Du är fin! Diggin' the dancing queeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen!"

"Timo!" I called out, "Come get your man off the table and into bed please!"

And on this evening, we learn that Berwald is a happy drunk.

Hold on, "Has anyone seen Mattie and Gilbert?"

"They're probably upstairs," my favorite potted plant filled me in, "I think I saw Gilbert go off with Mattie shortly after besting Ludwig in beer pong match. As far as that goes, I can't help you, Terra. I'm sorry."

"It's alright, Ivan," I settled him, "What are you still doing in the plant?"

"It's cozy in here."

"Wait," I thought for a minute, "You've been drinking steadily all night. How are you not drunk?"

"Oh, I'm hammered," Ivan said, "I'm just not moron like some of others."

"I think it's time we all go to bed," I decided, "Alright, children! Party's over. Everybody in bed!"

"Aww…" they all moaned. Of course they did. It's nice that they listen, though. So, I had that going for me. I needed to go to bed, too. I've had too much and the warmth of my big bed sounded pleasant. After we all said our goodnights and someone dug Ludwig out of the coat closet (presumably Feliciano), I headed upstairs and curled up in bed.

A few minutes had gone by before I heard a light tapping at the door, "Terra…? Are you still awake?"

"Lovino?" I guessed, "Yeah. I'm awake. Come in."

"Do you think…" he asked so innocently, "I could come sleep with you?"

"Nightmare again, tesoro?" I offered him a side of my bed.

"No," Lovino crawled in next to me, cuddling into my ribs, "You're just really nice to sleep with."

"Aww," I melted, leaving a gentle kiss on the top of his head, "You're nice to sleep with, too."

"Terra…" another sweet, Italian accent chimed at my door, "Can I come in?"

"Only if you're not telling stories about Grandpa Rome again," I allowed, "Come here. You can have the other side, Feli."

"Other side?" Feliciano climbed into bed, "Oh…Buonasera, fratello."

"Buonasera," Lovino yawned, "Good night, Terra."

"Si. Good night," Feliciano followed suit, shutting his eyes. Aww…They're so cute.

"Perdóneme, kariña…" I should've known, "I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No, Antonio," I assured, "Before you ask, yes. Lovino's in here. Yes, you can join us."

"Ok…" Antonio cuddled into both Lovino and me simultaneously. Don't ask me how. He managed. Now, it's only a matter of time.

"Um…" And there he is, "It's Terra, right? I'm…I'm looking for…"

"Ludwig," I cut him off, "Just come in here. The bed is plenty big enough for the five of us."

"Five of us?" he wondered.

"You, me, Feli, Lovi, and Antonio."

"I guess that's not too bad," Ludwig allowed, getting into bed, "Better Antonio than Francis, I guess."

"Good night, boys…" I shut my eyes. It's been a long night, but we all needed the rest. Because I can just about bet the family farm that none of us are going to wake up tomorrow morning feeling very well.

 **A/N: I'm going to be totally honest here. I wanted to do this chapter for the sole purpose of getting Sweden drunk enough to start singing ABBA. I had to look the lyrics up in Swedish and I've never heard anything so strange in my life. And poor Feliciano…He has no idea what he said. He doesn't know about Grandpa Rome docking in a Chinese finger trap. We don't ask. We just nod. Now, I'm tired and considering a nap. So, no question this week. Mostly because I'm fried. So, to put it simply, I'll see you next chapter! xx**


	13. Family Breakfast

Ever since I got here, I knew someone had it out for me up there. Whether it was Cronos being a cheeky little shit or the Allfather funishing me for whatever reason, I wasn't sure. However...This morning proved different. Because I knew exactly who this was coming from. Di always was the jealous type. Althought he and Cronos were the best of friends, in the end, Cronos got me. Dionysus once poured his heart out to me and I rejected him. Now...With my throbbing head, churning stomach, and mouth drier than a desert, I pay the price.

When I opened my eyes, I remembered quickly that I went to bed covered in men. A beautiful Spaniard, a massive German, and a pair of adorable Italian brothers. That's right. I forgot my cuddly boys crashed with me last night. Even though I felt like absolute shit, the sight in front of me warmed me inside. Feleiciano and Lovino were wrapped around my waist while Ludwig and Antonio had a hold on Feliciano and Lovino. I loved them. They're all so cute.

But then...I smelled food. After Di would go on his benders, he'd always top them off by binging on starchy food. Maybe starch was the key. Although, this smelled more like sweet than starch. Regardless, someone was cooking downstairs. It didn't smell like it was on fire, so that ruled out Arthur (Sorry, Arthur...You get your cooking skill from Britannia. And she could never cook either.) and Alfred (I love Alfred dearly, but he's a loose cannon in the kitchen. There's no way he could make it without setting something on fire). So, with that in mind and Feli and Lovi attached to my waist, who would be...? I know who...

Carefully, I slid all the bodies off me, only stirring one. Feliciano babbled something in a tongue not his own. Possessed? I doubt it. In love with a pretty German boy? Absolutely. Ich liebe dich...Aww...That's so cute. You have to remember to tell him that when you're awake, Feli. But then, he started babbling something else...

"Rome..."

My Rome? Your Grandpa Rome? I know too much about that boy's booming sex life as it is.

"Ho...ly...Rome..."

Oh...Now, I understood. You were in love with the Holy Roman Empire, weren't you, Feliciano? I remember your Grandpa Rome telling me all about him. I'm sorry to hear about him...I know you two were close. Rome and I agreed, though. After his death, you couldn't know what happened to Holy Rome. You had too much to do. Too much life to live. You needed to learn to stand on your own two feet, tesoro...And then, once we knew you were ready, we gave you your Holy Rome back. Just not in the way you thought we would. It's only a matter of time before you realize what you have.

Rest well, my loves. Rest well.

When I got out of bed, Lovino rolled into Antonio, buring his face in his beloved's chest. You can pretend to hate him all you want, Lovi, but we all know better. Deep down, in your heart of hearts, yours belongs to this loving, protective Spaniard that would do anything for you. Whether or not you can pull your head out of your ass long enough to realize that is still up to you, but that day will come.

And you...My dear, sweet, little Feliciano. I know your heart still hurts from the loss of both Rome and Holy Rome. But I promise it's alright. You're in very capable hands. Even if he doesn't believe it yet. There's a reason why you fell for Ludwig so quickly. You don't think that might have been by design? And that your grandpa is a sucker for a good love story? It's no coincidence that after the death of Holy Rome, Germania had been gifted with another son. Feliciano cuddled into Ludwig with Ludwig's arms tightening around him. Already lost him once...Never again.

Look at our boys, Cronos. They're so cute. Now, let's go see which one of them is in the middle of making me breakfast, yeah? That sounds like a good idea. I followed the sound of ear piercing whistling into the kitchen. Definitely not Arthur. Too cheery, too awake, and the kitchen stayed in one piece. But that whistling...That whistling tore through my head like a wrecking ball.

"Francis," I stopped him, "I love you, but Mommy isn't feeling well this morning. The curse of Dionysus has plagued me. And I know damn well that asshole is getting a laugh out of this."

"Good morning, Terra," Francis smiled, planting a gentle kiss on my temple, "Can I get you anything? Coffee and aspirin, perhaps?"

"Let's start with that," I took a seat on the island, "What are you doing?"

"I figured the others would likely be in rough shape when they woke up," he thought, getting me a cup, "And since I know how to pace myself, the responsibility of breafkast fell on me. Would you like some?"

"Yes, please."

"What would you like?" Francis is earning the title of possible favorite today.

"What are you making?" I asked, looking over his shoulder.

"Crepes," he poured my coffee, "Something light that can still take care of things while not making you want to explode all over this counter. I can make you something else if you'd like."

"Crepes are fine," I approved, taking my coffee from him, "Thank you, Francis."

"It's my pleasure," Francis assured, "Now, what kind would you like? Anything you want, it's yours."

"Chocolate chips and Italian sweet cream," I requested, "If it's not too much trouble."

"For you?" he shot me a wink, "Never. However, I don't think I've ever made Italian sweet cream. That'd be something I'd have to consult Lovino on."

"Lovino?" I wondered.

"Oh, oui," Francis nodded, "Under all that bratty, pain in the ass attitude of his, Lovino can cook better than Feliciano. Don't tell anyone I said that, though. It'd break poor, little Feliciano's heart, which would bring down the wrath of Ludwig on me and I'd rather not deal with that."

"Understandable."

"Although," he figured, "I could probably do it on my own. That's what the internet is for, isn't it?"

"Are you making crepes, Francis?" a gentle voice murmured from the door.

"Yes, I am," Francis boasted, "You may do them prettier, but I did them first."

"Put it away, Francis," I demanded, kicking out a barstool, "Ohayo, Kiku-chan. How are you feeling?"

"Very dehydrated," Kiku flattened out onto the island. My poor baby is hurting just like the rest of us, "I've learned quickly that you can have too much sake in one night."

"Hold on," I jumped down from the coutner, tightly gripping the cool granite, waiting for the room to stop spinning.

"Terra?" Francis offered me his hand, "Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine," I assured, regaining my balance, "Francis, where does Arthur keep his kettle? I know he has one."

"Bottom cabinet to my left," he cocked his hip to direct me.

"Thank you, sweetheart," I filled the empty kettle and found an unoccupied spot on the stove top. With Francis living here, I'm surprised Arthur didn't have a bigger stove. And as soon as that kettle whistled (much to both my and Kiku's dismay), I poured Kiku a cup of green tea, "Here, akachan. Good for the head and for the heart."

"Arigato," Kiku's gentle smile warmed me inside, "This is very good, Mama."

"You're welcome," I kissed his cheek and took the empty seat next to him.

"Kiku?" Francis offered, "While the pan is hot?"

"Yes, please," Kiku nodded, "Thank you, Frances. Do you have any matcha?"

"Not on hand," Francis told him, "I'm sorry."

"It's no problem," Kiku dug in his robe pocket, "I have some you can use. Matcha crepes with a vanilla filling with chocolate on top please. They are my favorite, so please do it right."

Jesus, Kiku. Kind of brought the heavy artillery to the knife fight, didn't you? But he's also not feeling well, so we can chalk that up to his hangover. I still couldn't believe that, out of all of my original babies, this was the one to survive the longest. But I guess being a hermit has its advantages. Go off, Kiku. Go off.

"You're all such lightweights," Francis awed, "It's so adorable."

"Hey!" I defended, "It's been a while since I last drank like that, so bite me."

"Ughhh…" a pair of sad, tired, hungover feet shuffled their way into the kitchen, only to pull up the stool next to me. And a heavy, aching, disheveled head thumped onto my shoulder. Is he sleeping again? I think he fell asleep again.

"Arthur?" I kept my voice down, "You feel ok, sweetheart?"

"No…" My heart…I draped my arm around his shoulders, kissing his forehead.

"You'll be alright, poppet," I promised, "Soon enough, this will all go away."

"Last night was a bit of a blur," Arthur murmured, "If I did anything last night to upset any of you, I apologize."

"The part where you were trying to seduce me was a little unsettling," Francis chimed from the stove, "But it had its charms."

"Oh, God…" he groaned into my shoulder, "I tried to seduce a bloody Frenchman…I had to have been drunk."

"Je t'aime," Francis blew him a kiss.

"Please tell me that was the worst of it," Arthur hoped.

"Well," I bit my lip, remembering too much about last night.

"You were crying in Terra's shoulder last night, mon amour," Francis took him off my hands for a bit. Much like last night.

"Bollocks."

"It's true, Arthur," I confirmed, "You were crying heavily on me. You have some serious mommy issues you need to talk out."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Arthur grumbled, "I'm fine. My mother was nothing but good to me."

"If you say so." We may need to get that boy a good therapist before I leave.

"Angleterre," Francis asked, leaving his love with me, "Because I know you're never one to turn down my cooking, what do you want?"

"Cherry," he ordered, "You know how I like them."

"Cherry, powdered sugar, and a kiss when I serve them," Francis smiled.

"Settle down, frog…"

"Papa," a soft, sweet, tired voice spoke. Mattie could always melt me inside without even trying. Although…The long, gray t-shirt he had on didn't look like it belonged to him, "Did you make breakfast?"

"Of course, cheri," Francis smirked, "So, that's where you snuck off to last night?"

"What do you mean?"

"That shirt does not belong to you, Matthieu."

"My…" Mattie looked down at his shirt, turning a light shade of pink, "Oops…"

"What are you oopsing about, Liebchen?" a thick, sleepy, German accent grumbled, kissing the back of Mattie's neck.

"It's nothing," Mattie tried to cover his tracks, "I'm sorry. But…we got dressed in the dark, Gil…"

"Oh," Gilbert peeled his bright red t-shirt off, handing it to him, "Here."

"Right here?" Mattie's eyes widened, "No."

"Don't be such a prude," Gilbert rolled his eyes.

"He gets that from his father," Francis chimed in, finishing the last of the batter.

"Oi!"

"Why are you all yelling?" Ludwig came stumbling into the kitchen, "And is there an aspirin bottle in here?"

"Here, Ludwig," I slid the bottle to him, "Enjoy."

"Danke," he dumped half of it in his hand and threw it down his throat. More metal than me, that's for sure, "And Gilbert, for the love of God, put a shirt on. If the light shines on you, we'll all go blind."

"Guten morgen to you, too, West," Gilbert snapped under his breath.

"Hey," I wondered, "Does anyone know if Berwald's alive?"

"He is," a voice from the fridge spoke, "I checked on him last night. He was still breathing. He passed out after second verse of Mamma Mia."

"Hold on…" I got up and opened the fridge to find a large Russian man strangely contorted inside, "Ivan, what are you doing in the fridge?"

"I was feeling homesick."

"Ivan…"

"Da, Mama?"

"You're a very strange little boy," I helped him out, "And I love you."

"I love you, too," Ivan hugged me tight, nearly cracking my back. I'm not in pain. I'm not in pain. Don't let the others see you sweat, Terra. Maybe that'll be the turning point in his relationships with the other nations.

"We should all be going home," Ludwig decided, "We've done more than overstay our welcome."

"It's alright," I allowed, "You haven't overstayed at all. It's been nice to have you all here."

"Likewise," he smiled a little. So stoic. Can't tell who you take after, can we? Germania was always pretty blank faced unless he was shitfaced. Then, it was like someone pulled his string and he was all over the place, "I'll go get Feliciano out of your bed, Terra. Thank you for letting us sleep there last night."

"No problem."

"Excuse me?" Francis perked up.

"Beg your pardon?" Arthur followed suit. No matter how much he felt like hell, Arthur's give a shit switch had been flipped.

"Yeah," I scoffed, "I went to bed with four different guys last night. Ludwig was one of them. When they're all my babies, I don't think anything weird is going down."

"Could you let us know if Berwald makes it out alive?" Ludwig asked.

"I will," I promised, throwing myself in his chest. I shut my eyes for a bit, taking in the feeling of warmth he gave off, "Mmm…Just like him."

"Like Grandpa Germania?"

"Exactly like Grandpa Germania," I nodded. Germania had grandkids…Ugh…I feel old.

"I should be going, too," Mattie sighed.

"If it's not too much trouble, Matthew," Arthur requested, "Could you take Peter back to Berwald's house? He's not in much shape to do much of anything right now."

"That's no trouble," Mattie agreed, "It was good to see everyone."

"You, too, sweetheart," I hugged my favorite Canadian peanut extra tight, "I love you, Mattie."

"I love you, too, Terra," Mattie blushed.

"What about me?" Gilbert couldn't leave well enough alone.

"I love you, too, Gilbert," I kissed his cheek, "And Mattie?"

"Yeah?" Mattie chimed.

I stood on my toes and whispered in his ear, "If you put some ice on those hickeys, they'll go away faster."

"What are you talking about?" his voice went up a couple octaves.

"That's why you didn't take your shirt off in front of us," I teased, "Sweetheart, you can't get much past me. And I can see a little one on your collarbone."

"Thanks, Terra," Mattie's cheeks turned red again. Poor baby.

"You're welcome," I sent Mattie and Gilbert off to take Peter home and possibly even go their own separate ways. Or resume what they started last night like a couple of kids after prom.

"I should go then, too," Ivan decided, kissing the top of my head, "It was pleasure pouring drinks for you last night, Terra. We really should do that again soon."

"Absolutely," I agreed, "You're welcome here anytime, Ivan."

"Hold on," Arthur stepped in, "You talk like this is your house."

"I see you at my place soon?" Ivan hoped, "That way, you can meet my Baltics!"

"That sounds wonderful," I nuzzled my face in his chest, "I love you, kotenok."

"I love you, too," Ivan melted, "Dasvidanya, everyone!"

There he goes. Back to whatever potted plant he wanted to make himself comfortable in. He's a weird one, but I'll keep him. As Kiku finished the food in front of him, mumbling something to his plate, he got up, too, "I need to go home, too. I did miss you, Mama. And I'm glad to see you again."

"I miss you, too, Kiku," I nearly started crying again, "But I love you. And this won't be the last we see of each other. I promise."

"Good to know," Kiku gave me a hug, too, "Aishiteru, Mama."

"I love you, too." Dammit, Terra. Don't you start crying on me, "Do you want me to say anything to your brothers and sisters when I see them?"

"They know," he assured, "Min'na sayonara."

"Bye, Kiku," I'm going to miss him most of all…But then, it was just the three of us left. Just Arthur, Francis, and me in the kitchen. A peaceful silence fell over the room. And Francis could cook like a dream. He said he'd need Lovino…HA. He had Italian sweet cream nailed.

"So, Terra," Francis wondered, "Now that the proverbial cat is out of the bag, how much longer will you be staying with us?"

"A little while longer," I decided, "I still have some loose ends to tie up. But one day, I will have to leave. I'm still me, Francis. I'm still that girl you found in the alley."

His gentle blue eyes hit me in my core and his soft, sweet smile showed me my heart still beating in front of my face, "Alright."

"So," Arthur wondered, "What do we do now?"

That was a good question. Because there were so many others I hadn't met yet. And there were still plenty of things for me to fix down here. All I needed was a place to start.

 **A/N: This would be a great spot to end the story, but I still have countries sleeping in Arthur's house and countries that I want to give their own chapter *cough*Prussia*cough*. But I already have the ending thought up. By the way, speaking of things that have been birthed from my brain, can I run something by you guys? It's about when this is over. Yeah? Ok, cool.**

 **So, I was reading Fruits Basket the other day and I had a thought about Shigure, Ayame, and Hatori. Why in the ever loving hell has no one thought to pair them up with a certain trio of best pals we know as France, Spain, and Prussia? Because that sounds like a delightful mixture of sin and disaster and I need it yesterday. Which brings me to this question. If I write that, would any of you be interested in it? Because I'm already mildly invested in the idea and I love her. So, feel free to sound off and I'll see you next chapter! xx**


	14. House of the Rising Son

After a day of R&R around Arthur's house, my hangover was no more. Thank the Allfather. I felt like shit. Was that the price I had to pay to have a drink with my kids? Well…To be fair, I did have a little more than just one. And Ivan's heavy handed. Whatever. Totally worth it. The other night was a blast and I wouldn't change a thing. But that was then. What am I going to do today? I know exactly what I'm going to do today. I walked downstairs and hoped that I'd be able to get out undetected. It's not that I don't love hanging around Arthur and Francis, but I had more babies to see than just them. They had to share me with everyone else, too. Whether they like it or not.

"Where do you think you're going, young lady?" Francis had a more wicked mom voice than I did. I knew I shouldn't have gone by the drawing room.

"Francis," I reminded him, "I'm very old. And you don't need to be my parent."

"Sorry," he pulled me into his lap, "Forgive me for being protective."

"I understand," I kissed his cheek, "If you must know, I'm going to go see my son. Is that alright with you?"

"I'm right here, cheri."

"My other son," I love him, but he's exasperating.

"Far be it for me to stop you," Francis let me go, "Go ahead. Send Kiku my love."

"I will," I promised. Something about that felt sad. Why is my Francis sad? I don't like that, "Hold on. Don't you usually have a salty, bitter Englishman to play with? Where's Arthur?"

"He had to go see his queen on business," he pouted, "It'll just be me in this big house for the rest of the day. Think of me while you're having fun with Kiku."

"You'll be fine, sweetheart," I assured, "The solitude might be good for you."

"I can't be in solitude," Francis groaned, "What good is it to be beautiful if I'm not being admired?"

"You're such a drama queen," I giggled, getting up from his lap, "You'll live, Francis. I won't be gone all day. And I'm sure Arthur will be home soon. Then, you can play with him all you want."

"As long as he says yes," he pointed out, "All bets are off."

"I'll be back later," I kissed his forehead, "Ja t'aime, Papa."

"Ja t'aime, cheri…" Francis sent me off.

I really do love that boy, but my god, he has his moments where he's a stage three clinger. Not quite a stage five. That's his boyfriend when he's wickedly drunk. Regardless, I wanted to go see my littlest baby. Seeing Kiku at the world meeting the other day…That was a punch in my chest that hurt in the best way. I still can't get over the fact that one of my boys were alive. With the way Rome and Germania fought, I thought they all would've chosen sides and messes would've been made and that would've been the end of that.

Then, there's Kiku…But he was still pretty young when Rome and Germania got into their mini pissing contests. Then, Rome would bust out a bottle of wine, Germania would bring a barrel of beer, and they'd settle their differences. Only to find new ones when they'd reach the right levels of drunk. Uncle Di was a bad influence on them.

Knock, knock.

"Mama?" Kiku answered his door, bowing to me, "This is a pleasant surprise."

"Hi, Kiku," I smiled, "Do you mind if I come in?"

"Of course not," he held the door for me, "What brings you to my house?"

"I was wondering if we could catch up," I kicked my shoes off.

"Are you sure that I'm the one you want to do that with?" Kiku winced, "I've been mostly a shut-in for a very long time, Mama."

"Come on, Kiku," I followed him into his main room, "Talk to me. Something's had to happen."

"Alright," he and I sat down, "What would you like to know?"

"What have I missed in the last century?"

"Well," Kiku began, "I did make friends, so I have that going for me."

"So I've heard," I awed, "Any particular reason they happened to be Ludwig and Feliciano?"

"They reminded me of home," he sighed, "I missed so much because I was afraid to put myself out in the world. Rome and Germania…I missed my brothers. But they also didn't make things safer. I miss all of my siblings, Mama."

"I miss them, too." My heart hurts…

"Not many of the other nations can relate to some of the feelings I have sometimes," Kiku went on, "Hercules can, to a certain extent. A part of him still remembers Ancient Greece. It's almost the same with Ludwig and Feliciano. They all knew where they came from. I'm the source of where I come from. That's why I was so overwhelmed when I saw you at the world meeting."

"So was I," I took his hand, "Imagine what it was like on my end of things. For centuries, I thought all of my babies were dead. Seeing you in that doorway, Kiku, was like seeing a ghost. For a moment, I didn't think you were real. I thought you were like Ludwig and Feliciano. Just a lookalike of one of my ancient nations. Because I made that mistake with Ludwig. I thought he was Germania."

"They do look a lot alike."

"Right?!" I squeaked, "They're practically twins! And don't even get me started on Hol…"

"We don't talk about that," Kiku stopped me, "We all know, but Feliciano and Ludwig don't. We figured it'd be best if we don't tell them for the sake of their mental health. It would tear them both to ribbons."

"I thought so," I agreed.

"I really do miss Germania and Rome," he admitted, "I don't miss their fighting, but I do miss them. Once in a while, they'd come and visit me. Individually, but they'd still come see me. Rome only wanted me for my land and Germania wanted whatever Rome wanted, so Rome couldn't have it. It wouldn't be very often, but when they did, it was nice to not be alone."

"Didn't Egypt or Greece or Britannia come to visit?" I wondered.

"No," Kiku shook his head, "They knew I could take care of myself. They understood that I liked my alone time and gave me all I could ever want. But it's nice to have someone sometimes. That's what I have Ludwig and Feliciano for. Besides, they make for good creative inspiration."

"For what?" I asked.

"For…" he bit the inside of his cheek, "For manga I sell to Alfred…"

"What kind of manga?" Kiku looked down at the floor, twitching in his seat, "Kiku…"

"It's nothing," Kiku swept it under the rug, "I didn't say anything."

"Kiku," I knew better than that. What would he have to be ashamed about? So, he's drawing manga inspired by…Oh, "Kiku…Are you selling yaoi to Alfred?"

"No."

"Kiku…Are you selling doujinshi of Ludwig and Feliciano?"

"Yes…" he hung his head in shame, "It goes like hotcakes."

"Kiku…" I cradled my face in my hand, "I'm not mad. And I'm only a little disappointed."

"Only a little?" Kiku picked himself up again.

"Yeah," I let him have that one, "As long as it's ONLY Ludwig and Feliciano."

"Um…" his head drooped again, "Hai. It's only them."

"Kiku…" I love him, but this was my son. I had to love him, "Is it only Ludwig and Feliciano?"

"Um…"

I let out a heavy, exasperated sigh, "How many others?"

The stunned silence was not reassuring.

"Arthur and Francis?"

Kiku nodded.

"Gilbert and Matthew?"

Kiku nodded.

"…Antonio and Lovino?"

"Everyone," Kiku confessed.

"Kiku…" I groaned, "No more selling yaoi to Alfred."

"Yes, Mama…"

"But…" I wasn't sure if I should feel bad about this or not, but my curiosity was killing me, "How hardcore is it?"

"I wouldn't recommend it to anyone under the age of eighteen."

"It's a good thing I'm millennia old," I pointed out, "Show me."

"Are you sure?" Kiku worried, "Some of it gets pretty graphic."

"I'm a big girl, Kiku," I assured, "I think I can handle it."

"If you say so."

He wasn't joking. This was graphic. Some of these ventured into fetishes that I didn't even know existed. Or were legal. Although, artistically speaking, these were fantastic. Kiku had a very pretty art style. Some of them were definitely an anime style, some of the others were more…watercolor. The big, beautiful, soft brushstrokes were a nice touch. Even if the image wasn't portraying such a nice touch.

"Some of these are gorgeous, Kiku," I critiqued, "But in terms of context, you're the family disappointment."

"I'm sorry."

"But," I pulled him into my shoulder, "I still love you. Just no more selling yaoi to Alfred. He's still practically a baby and doesn't need to see...This."

"Yes, Mama," Kiku promised, "But I left the last chapter on a cliffhanger of will they/won't they and if I don't finish it, Alfred yells at me and says I gave him blue balls."

"That sounds like Alfred," I rolled my eyes, "Alright. Finish the last one, THEN no more."

"Ok," he smiled, melting my heart. It's hard to believe someone so sweet like him could do something so naughty. Those were highly inappropriate.

"Well, baby," I got up from his couch, "I need to be getting back to Francis and Arthur's. Francis is home by himself and I have a feeling he doesn't handle that well."

"He doesn't," Kiku confirmed, "If he still has pants on when you walk in, you're lucky."

"Not all of them can handle solitude like you," I figured, kissing his cheek, "This won't be the last time we see each other."

"I hope not," he nuzzled his face into my shoulder, "I like having you around, Mama. It's so wonderful to see your face again."

"You, too, sweetheart," I held him tight, "No more yaoi, got it?"

"Yes," Kiku promised, "I love you, Mama."

"I love you, too."

And I'm going to miss the hell out of you when I'm gone.

Regardless, I headed back to Francis and Arthur's house for some well-deserved rest and some more time with my boys. As much as I loved spending quality time with Kiku this afternoon, I needed to check on Francis and make sure he's still in one piece. Hopefully, he won't be white wine wasted and crying in front of the fireplace in the drawing room. I could see that happening. Then, Arthur would have to come home, pick up the shattered remains of his boyfriend (possibly husband, depending on the paperwork), and take care of him. I love them, but they're exhausting.

"Arthur!" I called from the doorway, "Francis! I'm home!"

"Bienvenue à la maison, cheri," Francis greeted me from the living room. By the looks of it, Arthur's home, too. Good. I don't have to worry about Francis being a groveling mess anymore, "How was Kiku?"

"He's fine," I reported, jumping the couch. Then, a flash of what Kiku had these two doing popped up in my mind and I couldn't look at either one of them the same.

"Terra?" Arthur worried, "Are you alright, darling?"

"I've been better," I cringed, "But yeah. I'm alright."

"TERRA!" a voice screeched from the front door, "WHAT THE HELL, DUDE?!"

"Hello, Alfred," Arthur groaned, "You couldn't come in a little quieter?"

"NO!" Alfred snarled. He _is_ pissed.

"What seems to be the problem?" Arthur took control of it.

"YOU TOLD MY YAOI DEALER TO CUT ME OFF!"

"Ooh…" France winced, "Terra…"

"Trust me," I assured, "It's for the greater good."

 **A/N: Alfred's not a happy boy. And I can't blame him. I'd be pissed, too, if someone took my yaoi away. That's why I got my special folder on my computer. Don't look at me like that. We all have some shameful things saved in the bowels of our computers, our phones. All that aside, question for the week:**

 **Who's next? Because this next series of chapters are going to be almost like dates with various nations. Who do we want to go with next? Anything goes. Sound off and I'll see you next chapter! xx**


	15. You Are Seen

**A/N: Alright. Just as a fair warning, this is going to be a short chapter. And I'll explain why at the end, but hopefully, that'll make up for this being a short chapter…Please be nice. I'm smol and soft. Speaking of smol and soft…**

"Alfred!" I knocked on his front door. He may be physically nineteen and historically two hundred and change, but right now, he's acting like a baby. And all because I took away his picture books. Let's try this again. _Pound, pound, pound,_ "Alfred, let me in!"

"No!" Alfred pouted, locked in his house.

"Alfred Jones, you let me in right now!" I ordered. Even since he stormed out of Francis and Arthur's house, bitching at me, he's been nothing but a giant brat, throwing the biggest tantrum.

"Go away!" he yelled, "You took away my yaoi! And I'm not coming out until I get it back!"

I swear. Even on his worst days, Rome wasn't this bad. And his worst tantrum caused Pompeii. I'm trying my best to keep my head about me, so I don't make another Pompeii happen, but Alfred's making it difficult. He must get his bitchiness from Britannia. I loved her dearly, but she could throw some dandy fits, too. Lest we forget the Crusades. Last time, "Alfred Jones, get out here!"

"Not unless I get my yaoi back!"

"Not happening!" Oh yeah. This was definitely a patented Britannia fit. It's just a game of who's going to cave first. Let's just say that's a game I never lose.

"Hi, Terra." Thank God. The sweet one's here. And right now, the current family favorite.

"Hi, Mattie," I couldn't help but smile. He was my bundle of quiet sunshine. And I loved him.

"What are you doing out here all by yourself?" Mattie took a seat next to me on the cement steps, "I heard all the yelling and thought I'd come see what was going on."

"It's Alfred," I rested my head on my knees, "He's mad because I took his porn away and grounded his dealer."

"Ouch," he winced. Not sure if it was for me or for his brother.

"He's exhausting, Mattie," I laid my head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Terra," Mattie draped an arm around me, "Do you want to come to my house and wait it out? Alfred can hold a serious grudge."

"I'd love to." He's such a good boy, "Where better to wait it out?"

"Mattie, you traitor!"

"Alfred," I called out, "Whenever you're done throwing your fit, you know where to find me."

Mattie and I left Alfred to be a giant, angry baby and headed for his house. I've never been to Mattie's house yet. I've only seen Alfred's. I guess today's going to be a learning experience. In more than one way. When we got there, I never thought Mattie would be hiding something like this. A large, sparkling lake shined in Apollo's light. It's beautiful…

"Matthew," I sighed out, in sheer awe of the majesty in front of me, "This is incredible."

"I love this spot," Mattie smiled, making the world stop turning, "Not many know it's here."

Then, his face fell, shattering my heart, "Mattie? You ok, sweetheart?"

"It's nothing," he brushed it off, "It's just…I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for," I wrapped my arms around him, "Do you need to talk, baby?"

"Only if you want to listen…"

"Come here," the two of us sat on top of a picnic table up in the grass and away from the beach, "What's on your mind?"

"This lake," Mattie began, "Not many people see this lake. And I love coming out here because I know how awful that feels. Honestly, I wonder sometimes if I ever even exist. Am I real? Do people see me? Or am I just a ghost?"

"Matthew," I took his hand, pinching the skin on top.

"Ow!" he jerked it away, "What the hell was that for?"

"You felt it, didn't you?" I pointed out, "That sharp, little pain?"

"Yeah," Mattie nursed his reddening hand, "It hurt. Why would you pinch me like that?"

"Because," I explained, "It's proof you're tangible, so that rules out you being a ghost. I could slap you right now and you'd feel pain. I could viciously tickle you and you'd laugh. I could throw you into the lake and you'd feel cold and wet."

"So, I'm not a ghost," he shook it off, "But does that mean I'm real?"

"Of course it does," I laid my head on his shoulder, "You're just as real as any of us, Matthew. I promise."

"Terra…" Mattie's hands shook. My poor baby…I held them steady, "Are you ever leaving?"

"One day," I nodded, "One day, I'll have to go back. Why do you ask?"

"Because," he spoke softly, his cheeks turning red, "Do you think I could come with you?"

"Oh, Mattie," I held him against my chest, "I'm sorry, sweetheart, but you have to stay here. You can't come to where I live. Not yet. You need to stay down here for now. I'm not saying that once I leave, we'll never see each other again, because I promise we will. For now, though, you need to hold the family together. I know you can, but do you?"

Mattie was at a loss. I could see it in his eyes. He didn't know whether to cry or smile. Instead, he threw his arms around me and squeezed as tight as he could, "Don't go, Terra. Please don't go."

"I'm not leaving today," I promised, "And I love you, too, Matthew. You're really and truly a very special boy and I love you so much. You just need to speak up once in a while. If there's ever something on your mind, shout it from the rooftops if you have to, but you can make them listen. And if you don't know how to do that, pretend you're imitating your brother. He's got plenty enough of a big mouth to go around."

Did that come out weird? Because that felt like it came out weird. Luckily, Mattie understood what I was trying to say…and giggled a little, "You make a solid point."

"Well," I shrugged, "I do what I can."

"Hey…Terra?" Speak of the devil.

"Well, well," I cranked my neck back, "Look who's here."

"Hi, Alfred," Mattie greeted him, "Am…Am I still a traitor?"

"A traitor and a scoundrel," Alfred teased, joining us on the picnic table.

"Really?" he shook a bit.

"Don't listen to him, Mattie," I settled him, "You're not a traitor, nor a scoundrel. What are you doing here, Alfred?"

"I…" Alfred stared down at his feet, "I wanted to say I'm sorry. For earlier."

"And for what else?" I asked.

"I can live without my yaoi," he sighed out.

"Good boy."

"Do you think I could get in on that hug?" Alfred has his moments where he can be insufferable. That's for sure. But then…Then, there are these moments. And there's no way I could turn him down. These were my boys…And they made me miss my big boys…On the days when Rome and Germania could play nice…I miss my boys…

 **A/N: I told you it'd be short. But I needed to hug Mattie. My favorite Hetalia fic got updated the other day and that baby deserves all the love in the world. Because sometimes, different fics will rip your heart out and hold it in front of your face while it still beats in their fist. But now, how about I share with you why this is short.**

 **Because I've started a new fic. The one I told you about last week? I couldn't help myself and I started writing it. And chances are, it'll be going up some time next week. But can I ask one quick question?**

 **What are your experiences with Ao3? Because I'm thinking about getting an Ao3 account and chances are, the first one that's going up there will be the Hetalia/Fruits Basket fic. My oldest anime fandom and my newest anime coming together. And it's going to be a hot ass mess. But this fic is all I've been working on once these updates have gone up and it's my new drug. It's hurt me. It's made me giggle. It's just…It's wonderful. And I love her. It'll be called Trouble Comes in Threes. And now, I think I'm going to go work on it some more. See you next chapter! xx**


	16. A Classy English Gentleman

I'm glad that's taken care of. Don't get me wrong. I adore Alfred dearly, but he can be kind of a baby when he doesn't get what he wants. Thankfully, I had Mattie to bring me back down to earth. He's definitely my favorite after today. But I will say this. After the long day I've had, I could stand to relax a bit. It'll be nice to come home and kick my feet up.

"Arthur?" I called from the front door, "Francis? I'm home!"

"In here, Terra!" Arthur yelled back. Drawing room? Sounded like it came from the drawing room, "Hello, darling."

"Hi." That's strange. It's just Arthur, "No Francis?"

"I'm afraid not," Arthur sighed out, "He went out with Gilbert and Antonio a little while ago. A quiet night in for me."

Look at him…Arthur looked so down. Secretly, I think he wanted to go out with them, too. My poor baby. I couldn't leave him like this. It's too depressing, "Hey, Arthur?"

"Yes, Terra?" Arthur swirled his little bit of brandy around in his glass, "What is it?"

"I'm feeling kind of hungry," I smiled, "Would you like to go get dinner with me?"

"I'll go get my coat!" he sprang up and bolted out of the drawing room. Aww…Arthur's so excited. In a way, it's kind of cute. He ran back and stopped in the doorway, "Are you still standing about? Come on then!"

Oh, Arthur…You're adorable. I followed him out the door and we took the car to town. Italian? I'm feeling Italian. I know better than to eat British food. Besides, Italian food had more carbs. And carbs are a body's hug from the inside. I mean, I know damn well I'm going to feel absolutely huge when I get up from our table, but that's the point, right?

As Arthur and I walked into the restaurant, a wave of delicious smells hit us, making Arthur weak at the knees, "What is that?"

"They're called spices, Arthur," I teased him, "When added to one's cooking, they typically enhance the flavor profile of whatever dish you're making."

"I know what spices are," he pouted, "I'm talking about those in particular."

"Sage, rosemary, basil," I guessed, "Probably some garlic. I'm sure I'm missing some. Excuse me…"

I flagged down our waiter, who quickly scurried over to our table, "Yes, ma'am?"

"Can we get the wine list please?"

"Terra…" Arthur stopped me, "Are you sure you want to do that? Aren't you a little young for wine?"

"Arthur Kirkland," I scolded im, "Are you sassing your mother again?"

"I'm sorry…"

"Hold the wine list," I changed my mind, "Cabernet, if you will. Bottle, not glass."

"Yes, ma'am." The waiter ran off to get my grape juice, coming and going just as quick.

"Besides," I pointed out, "Didn't we all just get wasted together?"

"Yes…" Arthur hung his head as I poured our wine.

"It's alright, Arthur," I picked his chin back up. It's hard to believe this was Britannia's little boy, "You were so cute when you were little, sweetheart. Just a little island, still wet behind the ears, that never wanted to leave his mother's side…I miss that."

"I know what you mean…" A gentle sadness fell over his face. One that I understood all too well. And I just wanted to give this poor boy a hug.

"Arthur…?" I worried, taking his hand, "Are you alright?"

"I do miss my mother," Arthur confessed, "But I also miss Alfred. He and I used to be so close. He was just as attached to my hip as what I was to my own mother. But then, Alfred grew up. And he got so independent. Then, Matthew grew up, too. I didn't have near the relationship with Matthew as what Francis did, but we still had one. I miss them. I miss taking care of them. All of my babies are grown up and…Well…They don't need me anymore."

"Empty nest syndrome, huh?" I understood, "I feel you. I was the same way when I had to let Britannia and Rome and Germania and Japan go."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Ask me anything," I allowed, "What's on your mind?"

"Does it ever get any easier?" Arthur took a good, heavy drink from his wine glass.

"You're…" I gave him a look, "You're asking me for parenting advice?"

"If you don't mind…"

I hated seeing Arthur look so defeated. But I think he's going to need more wine. I topped his glass off, "Arthur, look at us. What we're doing right now."

"We're having dinner," Arthur pointed out, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"I still have all of you," I began, "But I don't get to see any of my babies anymore."

"This isn't helping, Terra…" he slumped over the table.

"Look at it this way," I spun it, "You're asking me for my parenting advice. Because you still need me. I know that I'll have to let you go some time. It's not going to be today or probably not tomorrow, but you still need me. Just like how Alfred and Matthew need you. And more than likely, they always will. Especially Alfred. My god. I love that boy, but he's a hot ass mess."

"Especially these days," Arthur shuddered, "Good lord…"

"But do you understand what I'm trying to say here, Arthur?" I crossed my fingers.

"I think," he took in my wisdom, "I don't need to be constantly up his ass. I just need to be there when he needs me. Because, in the end, he'll always need me. Both of them."

"There we go," I applauded, refilling my wine, "It's nice when things I tell you kids sinks in like this. It does my heart good."

"Thank you, Terra," Arthur hid a smile from me, "I needed to hear something like that. It's nice to not feel completely useless, you know?"

"I totally understand," I let out a heavy, mildly depressed sigh, "I just wish I would've heard something like that. In a way, I abandoned my babies when they needed me most. And I regret it terribly."

"There's no way of you seeing the ancient nations?"

"I don't think so," I winced, the ache in my heart getting to be too much. Wine. That's what wine was for, "I'd have to talk to the gatekeeper and the gatekeeper and I are…Not exactly on the best terms. So, I'd rather not deal with that mess. Tell you what, Arthur. You know how Francis and Gilbert and Antonio are out and about tonight?"

"Yeah."

"We should go out and have fun, too," I decided, "It beats sitting around the house with our fingers in our asses, right?"

"Actually," Arthur suggested, "There's a pub down the road from here, if you're looking for somewhere fun to go."

"Then, what are we sitting here for?" I squeaked, "This has just gotten depressing. We could stand some fun, too, dammit!"

"Hell yeah!" he agreed, "Let's go out. Let's go do something. Let's go have fun."

"Alright, baby," I took his hand, "Let's go get into some trouble, yeah?"

 **A/N: Hi, friends. These short chapters have been doing wonders for my productivity. And little bursts of Terra's wisdom are always nice. But you know how I told you I've been working on another Hetalia fic (with a hint of Fruits Basket)? Well, I started posting it. The first chapter is up on Ao3. It's called Trouble Comes in Threes if you want to go look at it. And I'm going to be posting another one shortly after I post this, so…bingeability, I guess. So, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go over here. Question: Are these short chapters ok? Or would you rather me go back to the longer ones? Because I could do that, too. Either way. See you next chapter! xx**


	17. Just Disappointed

Where the hell…? What the hell…? Eww…I feel icky and cold and cramped. What the hell happened last night? And why am I laying on cement? Careful, Terra. Just push yourself up and you'll be ok. Who the hell was I kidding? I'm worse off now than when we had the slumber party at Arthur's. Speaking of Arthur…Where was he? And where was I? The last thing I remember from last night was us leaving the restaurant. After that, my world is kind of fuzzy. I need some answers and for that, I think I need to find Arthur first.

"Mon dieu," a familiar voice sighed out, "I'm not mad, Terra. I'm just horribly disappointed. Although, I am surprised with Arthur, though. Who knew he had that in him?"

"Francis?" I've never been so grateful to hear his voice in my life. I could always count on him to make me feel better when I feel like shit.

"There you are," he spoke softly, sticking his hand between the bars in front of me, "Good morning, Terra. How are you feeling?"

"Like the cold embrace of death would be a welcomed friend," I admitted, nursing my throbbing head.

"I'm sure it would," Francis figured, "But we still need you here, cheri."

"I'm glad to see you, Francis," I told him, "But would you happen to know where Arthur is?"

"Right next door," he pointed out, "He's in the same, sorry state as you, I'm afraid."

"Piss off, frog. I'm in no mood."

"Oh, Angleterre…" Francis babied him, "Is someone not feeling well?"

"I told you," Arthur suddenly slammed against the bar, "I'm not in the mood! Ow…And someone tell the lights to shut up."

"Arthur?" I made sure to keep my voice down.

"Yes Terra?" Arthur groaned.

"What the hell happened last night?" I rubbed my eyes.

"What's going on?" Francis wondered.

"Flashback."

Last night, Arthur and I had gone out to get some dinner. It wasn't much. I couldn't leave him to pout after Francis took off with Gilbert and Antonio for some kind of shenanigans, I'm sure. Italian. I remember it being Italian. And after we left the restaurant, Arthur had suggested we go to the pub just down the street. Alright, things are starting to come back. It was just supposed to be a casual drink.

"So, Terra," Arthur suggested, "Am I going to be your wingman?"

"What do you mean?" I gave him a look, "Why would I need a wingman?"

"Isn't that what people go to the pubs for?" he figured, "So they can find someone to have a casual encounter with?"

"Jesus Christ, Arthur," I shook my head, "No. People go to the pubs for a drink, not necessarily to get laid. I'm not here to meet a man and I sure as hell don't want my son to be my wingman. That'd be weird. Besides, I love you, darling, but if any of my babies were going to be my wingman, I'd have to go with either Francis or Feliciano."

"I can understand Francis," Arthur thought, "But why Feliciano?"

"He's adorable," I shrugged, "Cute works every time."

"Understandable."

"And there's only one man for me," I sighed over my vodka sour, "I miss Cronos."

"How did you two even meet?" Arthur asked, "Being…You…Meeting a mate must be difficult."

"Not really," I admitted, "It was kind of a night like this. Artie and I were out and about in a place called Andromeda. She introduced me to Cronos and we just hit it off. Then, a couple years later, we got married and a year after that, the ancient nations were born."

"Who's Artie?"

"Oh," I chuckled under my breath, "You probably would've heard of her as Artemis. Artie was cool as hell. I remember this one time where we went out and got stupid and got matching tattoos."

"You have tattoos?" Arthur gasped, "I knew you had scars that were shaped like us, but I didn't think you had tattoos."

"Only one," I lifted my shirt, showing off the blurred colors on my hip, "It's a constellation, but I don't remember which one. I think Sagittarius. Because arrows were kind of Artie's thing. In a way, she reminded me of Britannia."

"My Britannia?" he put two and two together.

"Your mother was quite the wild child in her day," I giggled, "And Artemis was a bad influence on her. If Britannia had her way, she wouldn't have had any kids in the first place. But then, she started getting the itch and lo and behold, you and your brothers were born! Yay!"

"Yay!" Arthur chimed, "But how was she a wild child?"

"Oh, honey," I awed, "You went through a phase, too. So did Britannia. Between Artemis being a bad influence when she was little, little and Germania being a worse influence on her in her teen years, Britannia became a handful. But after she had you, she started to mellow out a lot. In fact, because I was such an alleged bitch for not letting Britannia do anything, which wasn't true, it wouldn't surprise me if she named you Arthur after her Auntie Artemis."

"Really?" Arthur ordered us another round, "You know, Terra…I do miss her."

"I miss her, too," I finished my first drink before moving onto my second, "I'm not going to have you crying on me again, am I, Arthur? Because handling your drunk crying over Britannia once was plenty for me."

"I'm not going to cry," he promised, sniveling a bit, "I'll be fine. I'm alright."

"Do we need to cut you off, sweetheart?" I worried, "Do you need to talk?"

"I'm fine," Arthur wiped his eyes, "I won't cry. I refuse."

"That's my boy," I kissed his cheek, "Are you good?"

"Yes," he pulled himself together, "Quite right."

"Good," I draped an arm around his shoulders, "You want to do another bar?"

"YES PLEASE!" Arthur jumped down from his barstool and onto his feet, "Where to?"

"I don't know," I shrugged, "I thought I'd let you pick."

"Really?" he chirped, "I get to pick, mummy?"

Oh, no…We may need to cut him off. What the hell? We're having fun tonight. Might as well, "Sure, kid. Go nuts."

"Yay!" Arthur skipped out of the bar and found one down the street. And that's when things started to turn south for us. Arthur and I should not be left unattended and already with a slight buzz in a bar full of strangers. Because that's when we start ordering shots.

And more shots.

And more shots…

"Arthur," I threw my arm around him, using him to stabilize myself. In hindsight, not one of my brighter ideas, "I'm sorry you lost your mom. And I'm sorry she tried selling you for a piece of goat."

"What?" Arthur laughed hysterically, "Mummy wouldn't have sold me for goat. I was her, hic, favorite! If she was selling… _any_ of us for goat…Hic…My mon…money…monies…would've been on _Scotland._ Or…Or maybe the little Welsh twat. What was his name again?"

"I honestly couldn't tell you," I admitted, "I can't even tell you my own name right now, baby…"

"You know what we should do, Fran…Al…Matt…Arthur? No. I'm Arthur…Ter…TERRA!"

"That's my name!" I sang out, "My name is Terra!"

The whole bar erupted with cheers and applause that I remembered my name, "You know what's next door?"

"What's that, Artie?" I rested my head on his shoulder, "What's on your mind?"

"You know what I'm thinking," Arthur grinned.

"Karaoke?"

"KARAOKE!" he hugged me tight, "Let's do karaoke!"

"Where can we do that?" I wondered, swaying a little more, finishing off my ninth shot of God knows what.

"The karaoke place is next door," Arthur's eyes lit up.

"HELL YEAH!" I was down for anything at this point. Someone could ask me to kill a man and I'd be down. Karaoke would be nothing. The two of us stumbled out of another pub into the karaoke bar next door. We ordered more shots and a room for two.

"What should we do?" Arthur thumbed through the song catalog.

"You pick," I insisted, kicking my feet up on the coffee table.

"I can't," he shoved the catalog at me, "You pick."

"I can't," I giggled, "You pick!"

"No!" Arthur groaned, throwing himself into the couch next to me, "You pick. Pleeeeeeeeease? I'll love you forever."

"I'll love you…FIVE-EVER!" I squeaked, "HA! That's one more than you!"

"Come on, Terra…" he slurred, "Just pick something."

"Ok, ok," I rolled my eyes, looking through the catalog. One song caught my eye, "LET'S DO 500 MILES BY THE PROCLAIMERS!"

"No way," Arthur stopped me, "We're too drunk for that. And I can't do a Scottish accent. You can't sing 500 Miles normal. It doesn't sound right."

"Fine…" I let out a loud gasp, smacking Arthur's shoulder, "I GOT IT."

"What, Terra?" Arthur jumped out of his skin.

"LET'S DO DEXY'S MIDNIGHT RUNNERS."

"COME ON, EILEEN?!"

"HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELL YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"And that's when you two ended up here?" Francis figured.

"Ugh…" I groaned, laying my head on the cool stone wall, "Tell me there isn't a video."

"According to Arthur's phone," he showed me, "there is, in fact, a video."

"Wait a second." The world started making sense again, "Are we in jail?"

"Yeah," a pretty Swiss boy in uniform joined us, "I got the honor and privilege of picking you two up. Apparently, you two were causing too much noise and we figured it'd be easier to put you and Arthur in the drunk tank for the night. If it makes you feel any better, though, you were easier to get in the car than Arthur. He insisted on an encore. It wasn't pretty. It's all in the video."

"I'm sorry," I mustered up a little bit of a smile. There's no way he didn't come from Germania, "Hello, Vash…"

"Hello, Terra," he helped me onto my feet, "Francis, take them from me please."

"I will," Francis sighed out, "I'm still disappointed. Not mad, but disappointed. Allons. Both of you. We'll discuss this when we get home."

I've never heard Francis sound more like the Allfather in my life. They're not directly related, but they're close enough. Wait…I'm millennia older than he is. Why do I feel like Papa's going to send me to my room without dinner?

 **A/N: Aww. Terra and Arthur just wanted to go out and have some fun. Was that too much to ask? Apparently. And holy hell, my dudes. The amount of typos I've made in writing this story made me wonder if I was a little drunk. But I'm not. I'm caffeine drunk and a little tea drunk, but all in all, sober as a bird. But all that aside, I bet that if Arthur's the right amount of happy drunk, he's totally up for karaoke. I also have a minor headcanon that the drunker he gets, the more cockney his accent gets. And I think that's adorable. I was going to give him the fite me m8 gene, but opted against it. I wanted a happy drunk Arthur and a happier drunk Terra and I think it's time I call this story quits. I think I'll give it a couple more chapters. So, if there's any country we haven't covered that you'd like to see shenanigans with, let me know and I'll see you next chapter! xx**


	18. Your Uncles are a Bad Influence

The car ride home gave me the strangest chills. No light conversation. No radio. Dead silence. Dead…Tense…Silence. I think Francis was actually pissed off. It's strange. I've never seen Francis so angry. I didn't even think it was possible. Mildly upset? Yes. Overly dramatic? Hell yes. Mad? This was new. And scary. To think, all it took was Arthur and me going out and getting completely shitfaced to do it. Dare I speak? This silence is kind of maddening. A girl could only take so much.

Not that it mattered. Although it was a short ride from the station to Francis and Arthur's house, it felt like an eternity. Once we got inside, no one had said a word. Not Francis. Not Arthur. Not me. to be fair, I still felt like shit from the night before and I'm sure Arthur did, too. In all honesty, I just wanted some food and a nap. Instead, I still had this enema to deal with. That's it. I couldn't handle this anymore. The silence was killing me.

"Francis…"

"Go to your room, Terra," Francis demanded flatly.

"But…"

"No," he cut me off, "Go. Your father and I need to have words. Go to your room now."

"Ok," I wasn't going to fight him. Francis was in no mood. I gave a look and a silent prayer to Arthur and quietly walked upstairs to my bedroom, closing the door behind me. Good luck and Godspeed, Arthur.

Francis fought so hard to keep me here. It's strange to even remember the day he found me anymore. I sat in the street naked and cold and my son, the almost perfect stranger, offered me his hand and we never looked back. If Arthur had his way, I'd still be in that gutter. But no. Because Francis wouldn't allow it, here I stayed. Where he would always tuck me in and make sure I was ok. Without that reassurance, this room feels so cold now. And I didn't like it.

Tick…

Tick…

What the hell? I got up from my bed and walked over to my window. Visibility wasn't all that great, so I undid the latch and peered over the flower boxes to find my saving grace. Or should I say graces? "Tio!"

"Hola, chica!" Antonio called up to me with Gilbert standing next to him. What a sight for sore, sad eyes.

"What are you two doing here?" I wondered.

"Vamonos," Antonio ordered, "Y rápido."

"Si," I nodded, "Pero, por qué, Tio?"

"We don't have time to explain," Gilbert groaned, "Come on, Terra! Before Arthur or Francis see us."

"Hold on," I thought for a moment or two, "Is this a jailbreak?"

"Si!" Antonio confirmed, "Now, shimmy down the lattice and let's go!"

What was I to say no? I mean, I know Francis is mad at me and definitely at Arthur, but I also didn't want to stick around for whatever aftermath may occur. As careful as I could, I jumped out my window and onto the lattice. Scaling Francis and Arthur's house mildly hungover while Arthur got bitched at was not on my list of things to do today, but here we are.

"Esa es mi chica," Antonio threw his arm around me.

"Rumor has it," Gilbert mirrored him, "You can party. Is that true?"

"You guys were there the other night," I pointed out, "You know."

"We need more details than that," Antonio demanded, "Come on. We'll get you something to eat and take care of you."

"You don't have to tell me twice."

The way to my heart is through my stomach. And I would kill a man for a burrito the size of a newborn baby. Something tells me Antonio would know where to find one. Sure enough, a bright red food truck would have my key to salvation. Gilbert, Antonio, and I grabbed food and found an abandoned parking lock that had a nice view of the sunset. This was nice. Not to mention, the food in my belly was the life hug I was in such desperate need of. Gift from the Mexican gods, cure my hangover. And because I know you're up there having a laugh at my expense, eat shit, Dionysus. Prick.

"So, Terra," Gilbert asked, "What did you do to piss Francis off so much?"

"Nothing!" I defended, "Not that I know of anyway. All I did was go hang out with Arthur. We had a couple drinks. We got a little stupid. He's probably madder at Arthur than he is me."

"Chances are," Antonio figured, "He's not so much mad as he is jealous. Francis doesn't like to be left alone. It leaves him with his thoughts too much and he gets too into his head. Even more so, he doesn't like to be left out of things. In case you haven't noticed, he's kind of a diva."

"Francis?" I giggled, "Francis Bonnefoy, a diva? No way. I never would've guessed."

"We're resorting to sarcasm, are we?" Gilbert gave me a nudge, "Mein Gott. I have yet to meet a bigger diva than Francis."

"The only one I can think to rival him is Lovino," Antonio argued, "Maybe Alfred, if he's in the right mood."

"Definitely Alfred if he's in the right mood," I agreed, "I can see that. If Alfred's ego gets the slightest bit inflated, I think he could out diva Francis."

"You think so?" Gilbert wondered, "I'd say Lovino before I'd say Alfred."

"But here's the thing about Lovino," Antonio explained, "Lovino can be a full scaled diva, but he keeps his diva on the inside. He loves the attention, but he hates it all the same. He's the most introverted extrovert I've ever met in my life. Francis is the exact opposite. He's the most extroverted introvert I've ever met."

"I can see that," I nodded, "They get that from me. I'm the same way."

"The introverted extrovert or the extroverted introvert?"

"Why do you think Lovino and I clicked so quickly?" I pointed out, "Because we can be one in the same. I am the introverted extrovert in a nutshell. And I'm sorry that I passed that along through Rome. Because Rome sure as hell wasn't introverted in the slightest."

"God, no," Antonio chuckled to himself, "I only met Rome a couple of times before he died. But then, Lovino came to live with me and that's all that mattered."

"Consider yourself lucky," Gilbert pouted, "Germania was a pain in the ass to live with."

"Shut up, Gilbert," I rolled my eyes, "Even though Germania has his moments where he's downright insufferable, everything he did for you and Ludwig was out of love. You may not have seen it then, or even now, but Germania loved you whether you want to admit it or not."

"But he played favorites," Gilbert stared down at his feet, "He definitely played favorites. That's for sure. And it sure as hell wasn't a game I was winning."

"Gilbert," I put my hand to his shoulder only for him to shake me off, "Gilbert, do you want to know why Germania was so protective of Ludwig over you?"

"Why?"

"Because," I smiled, "He realized how badly he screwed up with Rome. And after Cronos and I brought Holy Rome back to him, Germania was going to do everything he could to keep that baby safe. And that baby would be Ludwig. He knew you were more than capable of taking care of yourself. The great kingdom of Prussia? Oh, hell yeah! He could kick more ass than anyone he knew. And he had raised him well, so that long after he was gone, that little kingdom could protect his baby brother and he wouldn't have to worry about either one of you."

A little smile graced Gilbert's face, "Really?"

"Really."

"But why me?" Gilbert worried, "Why couldn't someone more capable than me take care of that whiny pain in my ass?"

"Because no one else is more capable," I kissed his cheek, "Come on, Gilbert. You're the most awesome person I know. No offense, Antonio."

"None taken!"

"You really mean it?" Gilbert perked up, "Am I more awesome than my brother?"

"I love Ludwig dearly," I told him, "And he is the spitting image of my baby Germania, but you have something he doesn't."

"Steroidal muscle tone?"

"I was going to say your charisma," I shrugged, "But you make a valid point. Really? That's all steroids?"

"Probably."

"I thought he had the most ass kicking workout routine," Antonio wondered.

"Bench pressing Feliciano's probably part of it," Gilbert figured.

"I could see that," Antonio agreed, "If he's looking for something a little lighter, I could lend him Lovi for a while, but I think Lovi would probably try to kill him first. Catching him would be more of a workout than anything."

"Back to what we were saying," Gilbert shook off any thoughts of his brother and the little Italian boy, "So, Terra…"

"So, Gilbert," I finished off my burrito, licking the last bit of hot sauce off my fingers.

"Francis is just a big baby," Gilbert explained, "He's a whiner and doesn't like to be left out of things. Next time you and Arthur decide to go out and do shit, make sure you invite Francis, too."

"Francis was out with you guys," I tossed my wrapper into the nearest trash can, "Arthur was the one out in the cold here. Have you ever seen that boy's sad face? It's awful! I can't say no to it, man! It's a lethal combination of cute and depressing. I can't handle it. So, we went and got dinner and dinner led to drinks and drinks led to karaoke and karaoke led to us getting out of hand and arrested. I'm sure Francis is done bitching at Arthur by now. Do you guys think we should go back yet?"

"NO!" Both Gilbert and Antonio stopped me.

"Ok…?" I backed off, "And why is that?"

"Because," Antonio filled me in, "If they were fighting when we left, chances are, they're in the process of making up. You don't want to walk in on that. Their post fighting makeup sex is not something meant to be seen by the human eye. Gil still hasn't recovered from that."

"I saw so many bitemarks…" Gilbert shuddered, "So many…And on both of them. I mean, I know Mattie and I aren't exactly easy on each other, but the human body is not meant to be contorted like that."

"Gilbert!" I gagged, "No matter how pissed off either one of them is at me, they're still my boys. I don't need to know about their sex lives and how non-vanilla they are. And the same goes for you and Mattie, too."

"Sorry," Gilbert stopped.

"Maybe we should check in, though," Antonio figured, "Make sure that no one pulled something."

"Has that ever happened?" I wondered.

"I've only had to take Francis to the hospital once," Antonio confessed, "Gilbert?"

"A couple times," Gilbert winced, "You were out of town, Antonio."

"Hammy?"

"Twisted his back."

"Jesucristo," Antonio sighed out, "That boy needs to learn he's not as bendy as he thinks he is. Hold on. Let me make a quick phone call."

"Ok," I sat on the lid of the nearby trash can and waited to hear Francis' voice. 

"Allô?"

"Hola, Francis," Antonio held his phone away from him, "Are you naked?"

"No," Francis assured, "I'm fully clothed. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," Antonio lied through his teeth while Gilbert was trying to keep his lunch down, "Gil and I are going to stop by just to say hi. We'll be there soon."

"Merveilleux!" Francis chimed, "See you soon!"

Click.

"It's safe to take you home, cariña," Antonio threw an arm around me, "Shall we?"

"Please."

And so, Gilbert, Antonio, and I went back to Francis and Arthur's house, certainly to not be scarred. Unfortunately for me, I had to shimmy my ass back up the lattice and into my bedroom. It wasn't as bad coming up as what it was going down. I wasn't getting caught on anything. And most importantly, I wasn't getting caught by anyone. Only two people knew and they'd take it to their graves if I asked them nicely. I made myself comfortable on my bed as if I had been there all afternoon.

"Terra?" Francis spoke softly from the doorway, "Are you awake, cheri?"

"Oui, Papa," I let him in, "I'm awake."

"Good," he sat next to me, pulling me into his arms. There you are, Francis, "I'm sorry for earlier. I didn't mean to yell at you and be angry with you. You're a grown woman that deserves to blow off steam once in a while. No matter how you choose to do it. Even if it means occasionally getting arrested. But only occasionally. I'm not bailing you out again…At least not for a while."

"Thank you, Francis," I curled into his ribs.

"So," Francis pushed my hair out of my face, "How are you feeling? Better?"

I nodded, "Yeah. What about you?"

"So much better," he sighed out, kissing my forehead.

When he got close enough, I noticed there was something amiss. Like Francis' shirt tag hanging out of the front of his shirt. I don't think that was supposed to happen, "Hey, Francis?"

"Oui?"

"Your shirt's inside out."

"Is it?" Francis looked down, a little smirk on his face.

"I'm assuming things with you and Arthur are good again, too?"

"Very."

 **A/N: Good for you, Francis. I'm proud of you. You and Arthur fought it out. You got some in the end. Everything's coming up roses. But more importantly, your mother (who you've treated like your daughter since day one) has been out and about with two of your best friends. Seeing Terra and Gilbert this chapter kind of melted me. She just wants Gilbert to be loved. And who can blame her? We all want Gilbert to be loved. Now, speaking of the BTT, I posted a chapter of Trouble Comes in Threes on Ao3 yesterday? Day before? I think yesterday. And one's going up tomorrow in case you're interested. There's something there for everyone. There's Hetalia for the Hetalia fans (and the shipping that comes along with it). There's Fruits Basket for the Fruits Basket fans. Hell, there's even a 50% Off reference for the Free! fans. If you do read TCIT and you find the 50% Off reference, tell me and I'll reward you with one (1) virtual hug. So, if that's all, I'll see you next chapter! xx**


	19. That's the Earth and I am Terra

I knew this would happen one day. Ever since I fell here, I knew that I'd wake up one day in Francis and Arthur's house in the comfort of my bedroom and realize it had to end. I just didn't think it'd be so soon. However, as unfortunate as this is, it's time. I think they'll be ok. At least I sure as hell hope so. Nevertheless, it needs to be done. I pushed myself out of my bed and walked into the drawing room, figuring that's where I'd find my two gracious hosts. To no surprise, there they were. The fire going. A cup of tea in Arthur's hand. A cup of espresso in Francis'. Arthur with his cross stitch. Francis with a newspaper. Like the cute, boring, married couple they are.

"Good morning, boys," I joined them, a gentle smile on my face.

"Well," Francis put his paper and his coffee down, making space on his lap for me, "Good morning, Terra. Did you sleep well, cheri?"

"I did," I lied. I knew this was coming and I couldn't sleep a wink. Don't let them see you sweat, Terra. I took my usual seat in Francis' lap.

"So, darling," Arthur asked, putting his sampler on the end table, "What would you like to do today? We have all day to do whatever you want. Our schedules are cleared."

Quit making this harder, Arthur…I don't want this any more than you do, "Do you think you could call a world meeting?"

"A world meeting?" Francis wondered, "Why would you want to do something so dull like that?"

"Because," I kept my head about me, "I want all of you in one place. Is that too much to ask for?"

"Of course not," Arthur assured, "Unless it's going to be like our slumber party. I don't think any of us are up for that again."

"I think Berwald's still asleep under the piano," Francis teased.

"No," Arthur rolled his eyes, "I've checked. He's back home."

"Good," I worried about that one. It's not often I hear ABBA in its native tongue.

"Why would you want to call a world meeting, Terra?" Arthur asked, "Is everything ok?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "Everything's fine. Again. I just want all my babies in one place again. That's it."

"Alright," he allowed, "I can call Alfred and he can spread the word. Say, three o'clock local time?"

"Sounds good to me."

That doesn't mean I'm dreading it any less. I'm just glad he didn't make it sooner. Or maybe I'm not. Maybe doing this faster would be easier. It'd be less time for me to stew on it. As long as they all take it well. That's all I ask. It's not going to be pretty. I can already tell. But one thing had to be done without Arthur knowing.

"Hej. Det är Berwald," the other end of the phone barked at me.

"Hello, Berwald," I smiled, "It's Terra."

"Oh," Berwald came to, "Hello, Terra. How can I help you?"

"Do you think I could talk to Peter for a moment please?" I requested.

"Please hold."

I waited for a brief moment for Berwald to bring me my little bundle of joy, "Hello, Terra!"

"Hi, Peter," my heart melted, "How are you, sweetheart?"

"I'm wonderful!" he chimed, "How are you?"

"I'm doing well," I bit the inside of my cheek, "I have a surprise for you. Really, it's more like a secret."

"A secret?" Peter wondered, his voice dropping to a whisper, "What kind of secret?"

"How would you like to attend a world meeting today?" I offered.

"Really?" he squeaked, "I get to go to…!"

"Peter…" I hushed him, "Remember? Secret. Between you and me."

"Oh!" Peter caught himself, going back to his whisper, "I'm sorry. Really, I am, Terra. Can I still go to the world meeting?"

"Of course," I assured, "I want you there. No matter what Arthur says. I'm sure you could hide under Berwald's jacket and he'd be none the wiser."

"You think so?" he thought, "Berwald's pretty sharp."

"But his leg could be in the process of being chewed off and he wouldn't know," I pointed out, "It's at three o'clock. Can you make it?"

"Absolutely!" Peter promised, "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Good." Why do I make things harder on myself? Why am I that kind of masochist? Regardless, I did a good thing today, "I'll see you then."

"You sure will!"

I've never heard Peter so happy. It's too bad that it's going to be a room full of melancholy. It feels like yesterday that I woke up in the alley. I mean, I kind of want to go find the bitch that spit on me and the asshole that thought I was going to pickpocket him and kick the shit out of them, but that goes against my alignment. True neutral. I'm on no one's side but my own and I stay out of everyone's business. I simply tend to my garden and stick to my knitting.

Speaking of business, I have a world meeting I needed to get ready for. Since this one shall be my last, I might as well go out in style. Instead of peeking in my own closet, I figured I'd sneak into Francis' side of his and Arthur's closet. I might as well. As much as I love Arthur dearly, Francis had a sharper style than Arthur did. I could see why he wanted to burn half of Arthur's wardrobe. There's nothing wrong with living in technicolor, right?

But what's the first thing I grab? A white button up. That seemed to be the safe route. Black and white with one pop of color. That doesn't sound half bad. I just had to decide which color it'd be. I could go for the obvious red or blue that seemed to adorn the flags of many of the nations I'd be seeing today. I could go for green for the thirty percent of my surface that isn't covered in water. I'm thinking purple. Something about purple seems right. Black, white, and purple would do very nicely. How do I do it?

I ran back across the hall and dug in my closet with a white shirt and a purple scarf from Francis. A pencil skirt would be too uppity. And I'm not here for uppity. Life's too short for that much structure. However, I'm not in the mood for pants, so it looks like I may need to go with a skirt. I did have a black leather skirt in my closet, but I feel like that'd be too much for the middle of the afternoon. Personally, I wouldn't have a problem with it. I look damn good in leather.

"Hey, Francis!" I called downstairs, "Can you come here please?"

"Of course!" Francis skipped up the stairs and down the hall to my room, "What seems to be the problem, cheri?"

"Is a black leather skirt too much to wear to a world meeting?" I asked, holding it against me, checking myself out in the mirror.

"I don't think so," he picked, "You look cute in leather…Hold on. Is that my shirt?"

"Yeah."

"And my scarf?"

"Yeah," I shimmied the skirt up my legs and tucked the shirt into it, tying the scarf around my waist. Damn, I looked cute, "Why?"

"You didn't think to ask?" Francis gave me a look.

"Come on, Francis," I checked myself over, "You can't tell me I don't wear it better."

"It's not that," he fixed the shoulders that were already big on me, pulling them a little further down, "It's the principle. Did we not teach you anything?"

"You had me dressed for the Moulin Rouge," I reminded him, undoing just enough buttons to show a conservative, yet not so conservative amount of cleavage, "Consider us even."

"I did, didn't I?" Francis winced, "That's right. But you also looked absolutely stunning, Terra. And that was before I knew you were my mother."

"I'm no Gaul," I shrugged, "But she was a pain in the ass to give birth to. Exhausting."

"You know," he gave me a little spin, "You don't look half bad. You did this all yourself?"

"You're not the only snappy dresser in this house," I gasped, mildly offended, "You'd be amazed at what I could do with unlimited resources."

"You practically have unlimited resources," Francis pointed out, adjusting the scarf around my waist a little more, "You need a jacket, cheri."

"You think so?" I looked into the mirror, "I don't know. I think I could do without the jacket. I'm feeling like being half naked today."

"You're not half naked," he giggled, "You're only showing a little leg and a little chest. It's not like you're going streaking."

"I would need a jacket for that. You wouldn't happen to have a trench coat and a Halloween mask I could borrow, would you?"

"No," Francis put his foot down, "My mother or not, you're still our adoptive lovechild, Terra. And I will not let you go streaking."

"I never said I was going streaking," I settled him, "But thank you for looking out for my virtue. I have multiple children, so I'm pretty sure that ship has sailed, but it's appreciated."

"I still think a jacket would do nicely, though," he spun me around some more, "Are you sure you don't want one?"

"If you want," I allowed, "We can try. But I don't see the point."

"Jackets can do wonders, cheri," Francis dug through my closet, "Just some polish."

"If you say so," I fell into my bed and waited for whatever he had for me. Although, I applaud the leather on leather action. I am here for it, "Excellent choice, Francis. Very nice."

"I do what I can," he threw me the black leather jacket, "Are you ready for this afternoon?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "I think so."

"What is this world meeting for?" Francis sat next to me.

"You'll see," I stopped him, "You'll see when we get there."

"But what if I'm horribly impatient?"

"Then, suffer," I got up and wrapped myself in leather, "Well? How do I look?"

"Gorgeous as ever," Francis kissed my cheek, "Do you think I could finish?"

"You or me?"

"You, of course," he scoffed, "You're way more fun."

"Alright." I couldn't say no to him. Not that face. Not with what was about to go down. It's going to crush him. It'll crush all of them. Let them take the news well…That's all I ask. Soon enough, three o'clock had come and Arthur and Francis brought me back to the world meeting hall. I can do this. I can handle this.

"Terra!" Peter jumped into my arms the second he got loose of Berwald.

"Hi, sweetheart," I hugged him tight, trying to fight the shaking, "I'm so happy to see you."

"What are you doing here, Peter?" Arthur stepped in, "You know you're not allowed in world meetings. You're too little."

"I invited him," I defended him, "He stays. Like it or not, Arthur."

"Yeah!" Peter taunted, maturely sticking his tongue out at his older brother.

"Peter," I scolded him, "No, no. That wasn't necessary."

"Sorry, Terra…"

"Alright then," I gave him a nudge, "Go sit down."

"Yes, ma'am." I scanned the room and did a quick body count. By the looks of things, everyone's here. Good. Good…I think.

"So, Terra, dude," Alfred kicked his feet up on the table, "What did you want to talk to all of us about? Are we throwing another party? Because that would be AWESOME!"

"No," I shook my head, "I'm sorry, but we're not throwing another party."

"What is it, Terra?" Matthew looked at me with those big, pretty eyes of his, only making this harder.

"Well…" I braced myself for the minor mass chaos that was about to ensue, "It's time for me to go…"

"Go?" Antonio wondered, "But you just got here, Terra."

"That's not what I mean," I explained, "I need to _go._ "

"The bathrooms are down the hall," Gilbert directed me, "You could've kept that to yourself."

"Also not what I meant," I rolled my eyes, "I have to go back. Back home."

"What?" In the last few months that I've been here, I've seen things I never thought was possible. The reincarnations of two of my sons. One of my actual sons that I've given birth to. A good portion of them wasted off their asses. But something about seeing Arthur Kirkland, my baby Britannia's crown jewel, damn near shed a tear because of me leaving? I'd be lying if I said that didn't cut me to my core.

"Yeah," I wrapped my arm around him, hoping to cushion some of the blow, "I need to be going, sweetheart."

"No," Arthur gripped my shirt tight, "You can't…You can't go."

"Terra," Alfred jumped in on it, "Why? Why can't you stay?"

"You've made things so much better for us," Matthew added, "You can't go."

"I know, baby," I put my hand to Matthew's little, round cheek, "I know. I have to go, though. We all knew this day would come soon enough. I'm sorry, but it has to be this way."

"No, it doesn't!" Lovino growled, "You're not going anywhere, Terra. This is some kind of twisted joke and you're actually staying here. Go on. We've seen through it."

"I wish it were true," I confessed, "But I do need to be going back. It'll be alright."

"No," Lovino threw himself between Arthur and me, "It won't."

"Lovino," I ran my hand down his back, "I know it will. Look, what you all fail to understand is how simple your problems really are. And how easily they can be handled. You're all just too stubborn to see it."

"Oh yeah?" Lovino glared up at me, "How do you figure?"

"Like Alfred," I peeled Arthur and Lovino off my waist, turning my attention to another son, "Alfred, sweetheart, all you need to do is back off from being the asshole of the world once in a while."

"What do you mean, asshole of the world?" Alfred gasped, "What did I do?"

"Honey, you're so self-centered," I pointed out, "There's no way you haven't noticed that."

"I'm not self-centered!"

"Yes, you are," every other nation agreed.

"Oh…" Alfred hung his head, "But…I thought I was the hero…"

"And you are," I assured, "You've been a beacon of hope for centuries. For so many people wanting to better their lives. Through the years, you've seemed to forget that. That's where you're the hero. That's what heroes do. They give people hope. I'm not absolving you of the things that you've done in your past. Those are there. But some of those were because of who came before you. You take that and you don't allow it to be in vein and you try your damnedest to make things right. Also, if you could take any opportunity to be hella petty to your boss, that'd be ok, too. Trust me. That's definitely a way of making things right. Your government is supposed to be for the people. Be the people, Alfred. Be the voice the people need. And be loud."

"Ok…" Alfred hardly spoke above a whisper.

"No, no, no," I smiled, "That didn't sound like the Alfred F. Jones I know and love. What's that F stand for, baby?"

"FREEDOM!" There he is, "For everyone…"

"That's my boy," I kissed his cheek.

"So, you solved Alfred's problem," Lovino scoffed, "That's one problem."

"I could do that with everyone," I shrugged, scanning the room for my next victim, "Mattie, come here."

"Me?" Matthew shuffled nervously toward me, "Wh…Why?"

"Because," I took a seat on the table, "Your problem is easy, too. It's ok. You can speak up a little louder. It's alright to make noise. If there's something bothering you at a world meeting, tell them! Scream it at the top of your lungs if you have to. It'll be alright. And to the rest of you, LOOK AT HIM! HE'S NOT A GODDAMN GHOST! HE'S HERE! And he's also not Alfred. He's his own person. They may look alike, but he's not Alfred. Mattie, who are you?"

"I'm…" Matthew spoke softly, staring down at his feet, "I'm Canada…"

"Louder."

"I'm…" he looked up a little more, "I'm Canada."

"Louder!"

"I'M CANADA, GODDAMMIT! I'M NOT ALFRED! I'M NOT AMERICA!" A certain sparkle shined in in Mattie's eyes, warming my heart to no end, "I'M MY OWN PERSON, TOO!"

"That's right, schatzi!" Gilbert chimed in, "You tell them!"

"I'll get to you in a minute, Gilbert," I settled him, giving his (I'm assuming. If that little outburst didn't prove it) boyfriend his due cheek kisses, "But first…Ludwig."

"I don't see how I have any problems," Ludwig gave me a look, "How do you figure you can solve what's already been solved?"

"It's not necessarily that," I brushed him off, "We'll call these my parting words to you if that makes you feel better."

"What do you mean?" Oh, Ludwig…More brawn than brain. That's ok.

"Because," I told him, "I know what makes you tick. You're so much like Germania and I wish I could've told him this in person while I had the chance. You don't have to constantly be strong, Ludwig. And it's ok. I know one thing that will always make you soft no matter what. And that's ok, too. Just…Do me a favor. Be good to him. We went through a lot of trouble to put you here. The least you can do is be good to him."

"I don't understand," Ludwig and I took a seat on the floor.

"He's special to you, isn't he?" I wondered, "And he always has been, but you could never understand why. You knew you had to find him one day. And you did. Your box of tomatoes. And he'll always be yours. Destiny is a funny thing, isn't it?"

"What?" he perked up. I think someone may be making connections in his head. Some things are becoming clearer. Good for you, Ludwig.

"You know damn well what," I merely smiled, bringing his older brother to me, "Gilbert…"

"Ja?" Gilbert joined us.

"You don't need to be so self-destructive," I put a hand to his face, "Your manic energy is beautiful, sweetheart, but there's a fine line between manic energy and self-destruction and it's drawn in chalk. We don't need that. And whether your brother wants to admit it or not, he needs you. And you have to be around for him. Ok? And Ludwig's not the only one that needs you."

"Um…I never said I needed…"

"Ludwig, you're killing the moment," I hushed him, looking over toward Matthew, "You see the cutie over there?"

"Yeah," Gilbert smiled a bit, "What about him?"

"He needs you, too," I told him, "He doesn't have much in the line of confidence. Boost his ego a little once in a while. Not to Alfred's levels, but a little isn't too bad."

"Hey!" Alfred whined, "What do you mean, not to Alfred's levels?"

"Your ego has its own orbit, Alfred," Arthur chimed in, "You know it. I know it. We all know it."

"Mom!" Alfred groaned, "Arthur's being a dick!"

"Arthur's being truthful and you don't know how to handle it," I clarified, "It's not him, baby. It's you."

"HA!"

"Arthur, you're not helping."

"Oh…"

"Anyway," I brushed them off, moving onto the next one, "Antonio…"

"Me!" Antonio's face lit up, craving my attention, sliding into my lap.

"Antonio," I wrapped my arms around him, "Mi Tio España…"

"Si, Mama?"

"Tu es no mi tio, cariño," I explained, "Comprende?"

"Bien…" he let it go, "Is that my problem? That I see you as a baby even though that if it weren't for you, I wouldn't exist?"

"Partially," I mulled it over, "It's more so about Lovino. You don't need to hover over him. If he needs you, he'll let you know."

"I don't…!"

"Lovino, non nunc!" I snapped, knowing what Latin does to Feliciano and Lovino both.

"Scusa, Mama…" Lovino apologized.

"Also," I whispered to Antonio, "If you really want to get Lovino to listen to you better, pick up Latin. It'll remind him of Rome and it'll click so much quicker in his brain. But all the babies need to leave the next some time. Take comfort in the fact that you did your best and hope something stuck."

"You think so?" Antonio looked over at his favorite little Italian.

"Definitely," I assured, "And I think Lovino can handle himself. To a certain extent. The important thing is to be there when he needs you. Lovino, come here. Feliciano, you, too."

"Si, Terra?" Feliciano threw himself in my lap with almost the same gusto as Antonio. You're so much like Rome, Feli.

"What?" Lovino slid in next to me, cuddling into my side. They really are making this hard on me, aren't they?

"I just want you two to make me a promise," I begged, "Don't become like Rome and Germania. It scares me how similar you are to them and I don't want to see history repeat itself. I've seen two brothers tear each other apart, but I don't want that to happen with you two. Lovino, accept your brother's love, but Feliciano, understand when he's had enough. Don't force it. No means no. But salty and sweet work best when they're together. Got it?"

"Si, Mama," Feliciano laid his head in my shoulder.

"Si, Mama," Lovino followed suit.

I threw my arms around my boys, "I'm going to miss you two…"

"We'll miss you, too, Terra," Lovino stretched up, kissing my forehead.

"Will we ever see you again?" Feliciano looked up at me, those big eyes of his killing me just as bad as Matthew's.

"One day, maybe," I thought, "Go on. I got a few more to go through and not a whole lot of time to do it."

"Ok," my babies got up from my lap and I checked the room for my next victim. Well…I say victim. It's not like I'm kicking the shit out of them. And I knew where my next one was. He always did say it was a cozy spot. I got up from the floor and checked the potted plant in the corner, "Ivan…"

"Da?"

"Get out of the plant, mishka."

"Ok," Ivan climbed out of the plant and joined me on the floor.

"Oh, Ivan…" All of the others slightly cowered as he laid his head in my lap, "You really are so sweet, baby…And it's a shame that the others don't see that. But unfortunately, people aren't so easily swayed. If you're nicer to them, over time, I'm sure that opinion will change. And they'll see you for the delightful little jellybean you are. Because you're not scary, sweetheart. There is a truly kind man behind that sweet face of yours. I hope you know that."

"I do," he nuzzled his face in my hip. "I try, Terra. And thank you for seeing things that way. Does that mean I don't hide in plant anymore?"

"That's right."

"Or in refrigerator?"

"Yes."

"Or behind bushes?"

"Yes," I love this boy, "See? You're already trying. Just wait for them to meet you half way, ok?"

"Ok!" I kissed his forehead and sent him off. Nobody wanted to hear me say it. No one wanted to hear me say goodbye. And I can understand why. Because this next one was going to hurt, "Kiku…"

Without saying a word, Kiku came down to my lap, "Goodbyes are never easy, are they, Mama?"

"Oh, God, no," I held back the tears trying to bubble up in the back of my throat. As tight as I could, I wrapped my arms around one of my first borns, "Kiku, I'm so proud of you. You've made friends. You've gotten out of the house. You're not a complete hikikomori anymore. And I'm so proud of you. You've been shut in for so long. How does it feel to be out in the world?"

"It's scary," Kiku admitted, "But I'm glad Feliciano and Ludwig are here. I couldn't have met them in my house. The world is such a beautiful place, Mama. You made it that way, didn't you?"

"Just for you, koibito," I nodded, "And your brothers and sisters. But they had to go and kill each other. I'm not saying that I'm placing that burden on you, but keep a closer eye on these ones, ok?"

"I will," he promised.

"And no more selling yaoi to Alfred."

"Aww!" Alfred groaned in the distance.

"Yes, Mama," Kiku curled into me. And I never wanted this to end.

"Aishiteru, Kiku-chan," I kissed the top of his head.

"I love you, too." Damn, it's going to suck leaving them…

"Arthur," I forced a smile, taking his hands, "You've been so good to me. And you've been so much fun to play with. I wish I would've known how badly you were struggling before I got here."

"It's alright, Terra," Arthur assured, "I just wish I was better to you sooner."

"I know it's going to be hard to let me go," I told him, "And I know it's hard to let him go. But you know he'll always need you. It's like I told Antonio. He will never stop needing you. Always. But let him come to you. Don't hover. Don't be on his ass constantly. If he needs something, Alfred!"

"Yo!"

"If you need anything, where do you go?"

"I ask Arthur nicely?"

"That's my boy," I praised, "See? He still needs you. You'll be alright."

"Thank you, Terra," he hugged me tight, "And I'm so sorry I wasn't better to you, darling. Really, I am."

"It's water under the bridge," I settled him, "At least until the next time I get you drunk and you're crying over Britannia."

"Oi!"

"I love you, too," I kissed his cheek. Now, I knew this one would hurt. This would be a bandage to rip off. But it's coming off nice and slow. I could see it deep in those pretty blue eyes of his. The tears swelling up. Because I could see my own in their reflection, "Francis…My dear, sweet Francis. The only one that took a chance on me. Unconditionally loved me."

Francis struggled to put a smile on his face, blinking the tears out of his eyes, "Don't do this to me…"

"I have to, sweetheart," I buried myself in his chest, listening to his heart beat out of his chest, "I know it'll be hard, but it'll be ok. I love you so much and I'll never forget what you've done for me. If you can unconditionally love everyone the way you did me, this world would be such a better place. But maybe you start with one. And see where that takes you. You are my hopeless romantic and don't let anyone beat that out of you."

"I love you, Terra," Francis cradled me against his chest, never wanting to let me go."

"Je t'aime, mon fils," I let a few tears escape, watching them soak through his shirt, "Prenez soiin de vous."

"I will," he promised, kissing the top of my head, "Be careful."

"How does it work?" Arthur wondered, "When you go back."

"You're about to see firsthand," I got up from Francis' lap, shaking everything off, "Do you see that door over there?"

"Yeah."

"I can just walk through it," I explained, "And I'll be gone."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that," I put my hand on the doorknob, "I could've left any time I wanted, but I wanted to stay with you. However, now, I have to. I love you all. And I'll miss you…"

I know they wanted me to stay, but it had gotten to be time. Speaking of time…I'm not surprised he was there to greet me as soon as I got home. When I walked into my cozy home in the clouds, a tall, good looking man stood on the other side, ready to accept me again with open arms, "Welcome home, beautiful."

"Hello, Cronos," I fell into his chest, emotionally spent.

"Terra," Cronos picked my chin up, "What's the matter, my love? What makes you hurt? Were you too late?"

"No," I shook my head, "It's just been a long day."

"Come here," he brought me into our living room, sitting me down, "Tell me. How are they?"

"Just as stubborn as ours," I chuckled to myself, "Maybe even worse. But they're ok. They will be anyway."

"If that's the case," Cronos wondered, "Why are you so sad?"

"I need to see ours again," I wept a bit, "Most of them anyway."

"Terra," he assumed, "All of ours have passed on."

"Not all of them," I wiped the tears from my eyes, "It's Kiku, Cronos. He's still alive."

"Kiku?" Cronos gasped, "Are you sure it was him?"

"Oh yeah," I promised, "It was definitely Kiku. He remembers his brothers and sisters and I know that was my Kiku. He had shut himself up for so long and it protected him. But now, he's with Germania and Rome's babies."

"Ludwig and Feliciano?"

"The very same," I confirmed, "He misses them, too."

"Well, my dear," Cronos thought, "You could always talk to the gatekeeper."

"I don't know, Cronos," I winced, "The gatekeeper and I aren't exactly on good terms."

"I can go with you," he offered, "Put in a good word for you."

"No," I shook my head, "I appreciate the sentiment, but I need to see the gatekeeper on my own."

"Good luck, my love," Cronos left me with one last kiss.

"I can tell you all about it when I come back," I promised, "And I will."

"Go on…"

I only needed one time. Hopefully, the gatekeeper won't be a grade A dick. He has his moments. But I've had enough for today. If he's going to be an asshole, I can always kick him and steal his keys. Plan B? Maybe. Let's hope I don't have to resort to that.

"Well, well…" the gatekeeper droned, "If it isn't _you._ "

"Please," I begged, "I'm in no mood. I just need to see them. Only once is all I need."

"Dare I…?"

"Come on, Gatekeeper," I groaned, "I've had a very hard few months and I need to see them. Please."

Slowly, but surely, the gate creaked open. This was it. I managed a smile out of the gatekeeper and walked right in like I owned the place. Now, I'm looking for a bunch in particular. And sure enough, sitting at a big ass poker table, I found them. Two were arguing over card counting while another sat and watched, a cup of tea in her hand. And if I'm not mistaken, I'm pretty sure one of them had fallen asleep. Yep. That's what I'm looking for.

"Ve…?"

"Was? Tu nicht so, als wäre ich nicht hier!"

"Mama! Salve!" a giant pair of arms wrapped themselves around me, pulling me into a warm, comforting hug.

I couldn't help myself. I broke down into massive ugly tears, "Romae meum…Meine Germania…"

"Mother?" Britannia wondered, "Are you alright?"

"It's nothing," I assured, "Someone pick Ancient Greece up from the floor."

"She's tired," Britannia let her go, "She'll be fine."

"Mutti?" Germania worried, "Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm sure."

Because now, I was home. Be good to me, my children. I'm the only mother you have.

 **A/N: And that's the end, my friends. I know it's been a journey and this is abrupt, but what better way than to end it with a poker game amongst the ancient nations? Right now, I need a hug. A lot needed to be said and I didn't have much time to say it. Both in story and outside story. I'm writing this on Sunday because I'm going on a road trip this week. It was a last minute thing. Don't know where I'm going, but I'll be around the Twitter and such. All of the information is in my author bio. Now, I also have two other updates that need to be done.**

 **So, as far as the mushy shit goes…Thank you for being around for my first Hetalia fic. Because of this one, I've started writing another one. Although, that one has some Fruits Basket mixed in with it and if you're not reading Trouble Comes in Threes, I've started posting it here, too, in case you don't feel like bouncing over to Ao3 to read it. But for now, I love you and I'll see you later. xx**


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